LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Division. 


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WAY    SIDE    HYMNS. 


WAY    SIDE    HYMNS 


SELECTED   FROM   VARIOUS   AUTHORS. 


NEW   YORK: 
ANSON   D.   F.   RANDOLPH, 

No.  770  Broadway,  con.  Xinth   St. 

186(3. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S64, 

By  Anson  D.  F.  Randolph, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


EDWARD    O.    JENKINS, 

iJi inter  &  <Stc'.eotnpcr, 
No.  •_'<>  North  William  St. 


CONTENTS.  ■ 


PAGE 

Ache  on,  poor  stricken  heart,  ache  on  ! 32 

^  A  little  bird  I  am, 33 

A  mind  at  "  perfect  peace  "  with  God, 51 

"  And  /will  give  you  rest !" oe» 

An  outcast  I,  deep  dyed  in  sin, 38 

A  prisoner  of  hope, 56 

Busy,  inquiring  heart,  what  wouldst  thou  know  ? 58 

Christ,  let  me  come  to  Thee  ! 139 

Come,  0  thou  traveler  unknown, 106 

Dear  Lord  !  Thou  knowest  oftentimes, 104 

From  whence  this  fear  and  unbelief, 103 

Go  forth,  the  Master  calls, 26 

»  w  Hail !  thou  Head,  so  bruised  and  wounded, 61 

"  Heart,  heart,  lie  still !" 66 

He  comes,  of  all  His  saints  to  be  anointed, 144 

V^  Here,  brief  is  the  sighing, 148 

Here,  Thou  art  with  us,  blest  Emmanuel ! 122 

Himself  hath  done  it  all ! 70 

Home,  home  !  dear  Father  take  thy  poor  child  home, 67 

If  any  be  distressed,  and  fain  would  gather, 73 

If  Jesus  came  to  earth  again, 45 

(v) 


vi  CONTENTS. 


I  hare  a  wondrous  guest,. 68 

I  know  not  where  those  blessed  mansions  lie, 131 

I'm  tar  frae  my  hame,  1111'  I'm  wearv  after-whiles, 146 

I'm  weak  —80  weak,  an  infant's  clasp, 63 

In  steadfast  patience,  day  by  day, 82 

I  shine  in  the  light  of  God, 132 

1  threatened  to  observe  the  strict  decree, 12 

It  is  not  heavy,  agonizing  woe, 116 

•  &    I,  who  so  oft  in  deep  distress, .  87 

Jesus  is  our  Shepherd, 79 

Jesus  !  Most  Holy  One  ! 150 

Know'st  thou  to  whom  the  whitest  robes  are  given, 76 

Lead  thee  !  God  is  himself  thy  Friend  and  Father, 98 

Life's  load  is  heavy,  and  we  bow, 113 

Lighted  by  daylight  mild  and  fair, 123 

Lord!   I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing, 49 

Master,  I  come  to  Thee, Ill 

M  ust  I  my  brother  keep, 78 

My  Robe  of  Life  is  travel-worn , 100 

Nearer  !  Y  es  !  we  feel  it  not, 54 

No  better  days  can  ever  rise, 11 

0  blessed  Lord  ! 152 

Oh,  Christian  !  hold  thou  on  thy  steadfast  way, 13 

Oh  !  for  a  wrestler's  heart ! 24 

Oh,  take  me  in  Thine  arms  to  rest, 142 

Oil !  to  lose  oneself  in  Jesus, 17 

Oh,  wear}  ,  halting  pilgrim, 136 

Oh,  weary,  murmuring  soul  ! 118 

0  Lord,  I  pray  Thee  touch, 9 

Peace  !  Be  still ! 27 


h 


CONTENTS.  vii 


Soul  of  mine, 127 

Still,  as  of  old,  Thy  precious  word, 43 

Thank  God,  that  in  life's  little  day, 41 

The  city's  shining  towers  we  may  not  see, 136 

The  Lord's  foundation  standeth  sure, 91 

The  night  is  chill,  my  hands  are  very  weary, 110 

There  's  a  gate  at  the  close  of  the  pathway  of  life, 134 

The  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn, 25 

The  Sabbath  sunshine  blessed  the  earth  to-day 15 

These  words  fell  softly  on  my  ears,  and  so  I  prayed, 20 

This  even-tide,  no  loving  deeds, 114 

Though  the  fig  tree  may  not  blossom, 99 

Thy  night  is  dark  !  behold  !  the  shade  is  deeper, 35 

Types  of  eternal  rest,  fair  buds  of  bliss, 29 

Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done, 52 

1  *}  What  pleases  God,  0  pious  soul, 21 

When  shall  I  be  at  rest  ? 120 

When,  through  the  expectant  stillness,  "  Lo,  I  come  !". . . .  30 

When  we  reach  a  quiet  dwelling 1 29 

While  I  pace  the  narrow  street, 72 

White  robes  among  earth's  filthy  rags, 93 

•  -£7  Without  haste  !  without  rest ! 18 

Wounded  hand  and  pierced  side, 48 

"  Ye  shall  be  comforted  !" 84 

4}  Zion,  follow  not ! 81 


MY  MOUTH  SHALL  PRAISE  THEE. 

"Open  Thou  my  lipsy  and  my  mouth  shall  show  forth  Thy  praise." 

Ps.  li.  15. 


0 


LORD,  I  pray  Thee  touch 
My  sinful,  mute,  earth-kissing  lips  with 
Thy  pure  hand, 
And  give  me  grace  Thy  will  and  ways  to  under- 
stand ! 
Lord  is  this  boon  too  much  ? 

Yet,  if  Thou  choose  to  seal 
My  lips  in  endless  silence,  I  would  gladly  lay 
Thy  hand  upon  them  evermore,  and  pray, 

«  Thyself  in  this  reveal !" 

I  have  not  learned  the  speech 
Of  angels  in  the  glorious  new  Jerusalem  ; 
And  yet  I  hope  my  lips  have  touched  His  gar- 
ment's hem, 


Who  often  deigns  to  reach 


(9) 


10    MY  MOUTH  SHALL  PL.  THEE. 


His  band  of  tenderness — 

All.  precious,  pierced  hand  which  once  for  sinners 
#       bled  !— 

From  heaven  down  to  earth  to  lay  it  on  my  head, 

In  heavenly  caress. 

Lord,  wouldst  Thou  have  me  be 
For  ever  silent,  when  Thou  hast  my  soul  redeemed, 
And  now  within  Thine  arms  dost  hold  the  lamb 
that  seemed 

So  lost  to  heaven  and  Thee  ? 

Oh,  with  a  living  coal 
From  off  Moriah's  altar,  where  God's  Isaac  laid 
His  willing  holocaust,  and  thus  our  ransom  paid, 

Touch  my  polluted  soul ! 

Touch  lips,  and  heart,  and  life, 
That  I  may  bear  for  ever  with  me,  till  I  die, 
Immanuel's  death,  and  still  repeat  His  dying  cry 

Which  ended  all  the  strife. 

Teach  me,  dear  Lord,  to  speak 
For  Thee  so  shall  I  never  fear  to  speak  amiss  ; 
And  when  Thou  'dst  have    me    silent,  seal   with 
Thine  own  kiss 

My  dying  accents  weak. 


JOY  IN  THE  LORD.  \\ 


And  even  Death's  eclipse 
May  throw  a  halo  round  some  timid,  tearful  word, 
In  weakness  sown  for  Christ — in  power  raised  and 
heard 
From  silent,  death-sealed  lips. 

L. 


JOY  IN  THE  LORD. 

u  The  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength." — Xeh.  viii  10. 

YTO  better  days  can  ever  rise, 
My  cup  is  running  over  ; 
From  east  to  west  I  turn  mine  eyes, 
Nor  faintest  cloud  discover. 

My  life,  this  lonely  human  life, 
Has  more  than  purple  splendor, 

And  kingly  guests  come  day  by  day 
Their  kingly  gifts  to  render. 

The  earth  can  never  grow  more  fair — 
I  know  her  grand  perfection, 

And  wait  while  ages  wax  and  wear, 
With  her  for  God's  direction. 

I  tread  with  the  immortal  strength, 
Nor  fear  the  mortal  failing ; 


12  THE   HOLDFAST. 


What  tli  >ugh  I  stoop  to  Death  at  length, 
I  find  no  room  for  wailing. 

Joy  makes  me  humbler  than  my  sin — 
That  /  should  see  this  glory  ! 

That  I  should  say,  "  Christ,  enter  in," 
And  know  Thee  and  adore  Thee  ! 

I  ask  no  gifts  beyond  the  gifts 
Thy  love,  O  Christ,  hath  given — 

The  fountain  springing  from  the  rifts, 
The  daily  bread  from  Heaven ! 


THE  HOLDFAST. 

"All  things  are  yours,  .  .  And  ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's. 
1  Cor.  iii.  21,  23. 

T  THREATENED  to  observe  the  strict  decree 
-*-    Of  my  dear  God,  with  all  my  power  and  might ; 
But  I  was  told  by  one  it  could  not  be, 
Yet  I  might  trust  in  God  to  be  my  light. 

Then  will  I  trust,  said  I,  in  Him  alone. 

Nay,  even  to  trust  in  Him  was  also  His  ; 
We  must  confess  that  nothing  is  our  own. 

Then  I  confess  that  He  my  succor  is. 


TEE  SAVIOUR  SATISFIED.  13 


But  to  have  naught  is  ours  not  to  confess 

That  we  have  naught.     I  stood  amazed  at  this, 

Much  troubled — till  I  heard  a  friend  express 
That  all  things  were  more  ours  by  being  His. 

What  Adam  had,  and  forfeited  for  all, 

Christ  keepeth  now,  who  cannot  fail  or  fall. 

George  Herbert. 


THE  SAVIOUR  SATISFIED. 

41  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied" — Is. 

liii.  11. 

AH,  Christian  !  hold  thou  on  thy  steadfast  way, 
^     Still  looking  upward  for  the  perfect  day ; 
So  may'st  thou  win,  to  cheer  earth's  "  little  while," 
The  Saviour's  smile  ! 

Seek  counsel  at  no  worldly  wisdom's  shrine, 
But  try  thy  walk  by  God's  high  rule  divine ; 
Asking  at  every  step  His  will  to  prove — 
Will  Christ  approve  ? 

Put  every  thought  of  self  and  sin  away, 
Forget  thine  own  bright  crown,  and  only  pray 
That  Christ,  thy  All,  whatever  else  betide, 
Be  glorified ! 
2 


14  THE  SAVIOUR    SATISFIED. 


There  needs  no  higher,  as  no  lower  thought, 
Than  simply  this,  by  God's  own  Spirit  taught, 
11  May  Jesus  every  day  in  all  tilings  be 
Well  pleased  in  me  !" 

So  shall  thy  raiment  keep  its  spotless  white, 
Through  all  the  darkest  struo-cr]es  of  the  night: 
So  shall  it  always  be  thy  sweet  reward 
To  please  the  Lord  ! 

Naught  in  thyself  of  beauty,  or  of  grace, 
Nor  aught  of  sweetness,  save  in  Jesus'  face ; 
No  form  or  comeliness,  no  likeness  dim 
At  all  to  Him  ! 

But  let  thy  soul  be  open  to  the  heaven, 
And  lo  !  a  new-born  beauty  shall  be  given, 
Like  flowers,  whose  being  never  had  begun 
Without  the  sun  ! 

Jesus,  thy  Sun,  the  cold,  dead  heart  shall  warm, 
And  quicken  into  life  the  nerveless  form  ; 
Till  in  His  matchless  image  thou  shalt  shine 
With  light  divine ! 

<)  Light  of  light !  who  suffer'dst  in  our  place 
That  dark  eclipse — the  Father's  hidden  face — 


AFTER  STRIFE.  15 


Open  these  lidded  eves — unveil  our  sight 
To  see  the  light ! 

O  silent  Lamb  !  so  meek  to  bear  the  scorn, 
The  mocking  knee,  the  cruel  crown  of  thorn, 
That  justice  might,  in  sinners  justified, 

Be  satisfied- 
Look  Thou  on  us,  by  faith  made  clean  and  whole, 
And  see,  O  Christ,  the  travail  of  Thy  soul ; 
Here  in  the  hearts  Thy  grace  hath  sanctified, 

Be  satisfied ! 

A.  S.  K. 


AFTER    STRIFE, 

"  This  is  the  rest  wherewith  ye  may  cause  the  weary  to  rest" — Is. 

xxviii.  12. 

HHHE  Sabbath  sunshine  blessed  the  earth  to-day 

With  large,  still  utterance  of  a  thought  divine  ; 
For  ever  freely  thus — it  seemed  to  say — 

Doth  heavenly  love  on  human  darkness  shine ; 
Oh,  bright  beyond  all  suns,  that  wondrous  light 
of  Thine  ! 

To-night,  the  Sabbath  moonlight,  with  white  wings, 
Dove-like,  doth  brood  o'er  earth's  dark  fevered 
breast ; 


10  AFTER    REST. 


So  God's  great  calm  its  gift  of  healing  brings 
To  souls  long  tossed  in  sorrowful  unrest, 
And   leaves  therein  the    peace  that  cannot  be 
expressed. 

AFTER  BEST. 

The  loving  skies  lean  softly  down  to  bless, 
The  hills  reach  upward  for  that  mute  caress  ; 
White  calms  of  clouds  are  floating  on  their  way, 
As  wdnged  with  that  sweet  peace  of  yesterday. 
Sunrise  with  singing  in  the  east  is  born, 
And  the  whole  earth  is  jubilant  this  morn, 
After  the  Day  of  Rest. 

From  out  the  white  tent  of  that  blest  repose 
We  pass  as  one  who  unto  battle  goes, 
His  head  anointed  with  a  knightly  oil : 
And  as  we  climb  anew  the  hills  of  toil, 
The  work-day  world,  elate  and  all  astir 
With  eager  tumults,  looketh  hopefuller 
*  After  the  Day  of  Rest. 

Thus  o'er  our  path  the  Sabbath  lilies  spring, 
Through  hours  of  strife  their  decoy  sweets  to  fling ; 
With  bells  of  peace  to  call  our  hearts  away, 
Expectant  still  of  that  eternal  day 


CHRIST  IN  GOD.  17 


When  souls  that  burn  on  tireless  wing  to  rise 
Shall  find  all  high  and  pure  activities 
And  weariness,  all  rest. 


CHRIST  IX  GOD. 
"  Tour  life  is  hid  witli  Christ  in  God." — Col.  iii.  3. 

AH!  to  lose  oneself  in  Jesus, 

In  the  sweetness  of  His  will ; 
He  from  every  burden  frees  us 
With  Himself  our  souls  to  fill ! 

Oh  !  to  know  one  only  treasure, 

God,  the  only  good  divine  ; 
Him  whose  mercy  knows  no  measure, 

In  whose  favor  life  is  mine  ! 

Oh  !  to  plunge  oneself  for  ever 

In  the  ocean  of  His  love  ; 
In  whose  depths  were  cooled  life's  fever, 

Drowned  all  griefs  that  earth  can  prove. 

Oh  !  to  leave  the  world's  caressing, 

All  its  follies,  all  its  fears  ; 
To  the  gates  of  glory  pressing, 

Peaceful  through  this  vale  of  tears! 


18  HASTE  NOT!    REST  NOT! 


Oh  !  for  grace  and  strength  to  banish 
All  that  holds  me  back  from  God; 

Like  the  mist,  earth's  joy  shall  vanish 
At  the  lifting  of  His  rod  ! 

Oh  !  for  eves  that  wait  on  Jesus, 
On  the  Lord  of  light  and  life  ; 

He  the  trusting  soul  releases 

From  all  bondage,  from  all  strife. 

Oh  !  for  faith  to  find  the  Saviour 

Hid  within  my  secret  heart ; 
He  in  me  to  dwell  for  ever, 

I  from  Him  no  more  to  part ! 

Thou  abyss  of  grace  and  glory, 

Draw  us,  through  the  cross,  to  Thee  ; 

By  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem's  story 

Make  us  all  at  one  with  Thee. 

From  tiie  German. 


HASTE  XOT!    REST  NOT! 

u  Jh  tltat  believeth  shall  not  make  haste" — Is.  xxviii.  16. 
Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  t<>  <f<>,  <!<>  If  with  th>/  might" — Ecc. 

ix.  10. 

WITHOUT  haste  !  without  rest ! 

Bind  the  motto  to  thy  breast ; 
Bear  it  witli  thee  as  a  spell, 


HASTE  NOT!    REST  NOT !  19 


Storm  or  sunshine  guard  it  well 

Heed  not  flowers  that  round  thee  bloom, 

Bear  it  onward  to  the  tomb. 

Haste  not !  let  no  thoughtless  deed 
Mar  for  aye  the  spirit's  speed  ; 
Ponder  well  and  know  the  right, — 
Onward  then  with  all  thy  might ! 
Haste  not !  years  cannot  atone 
For  one  reckless  action  done  ! 

Rest  not !     Life  is  sweeping  by  ; 
Go  and  dare  before  you  die ; 
Something  mighty  and  sublime 
Leave  behind  to  conquer  time, — 
Glorious  'tis  to  live  for  aye 
When  these  forms  have  passed  away. 

Haste  not !     Rest  not !  calmly  wait ; 
Meekly  bear  the  storms  of  fate  ; 
Duty  be  thy  polar  guide, 
Do  the  right,  whate'er  betide  ! 
Haste  not !     Rest  not !  conflicts  past, 
God  shall  crown  thy  work  at  last. 

— From  the  German, 


20  THE   PEACE   OF   GOD. 


THE  PEACE   OF   GOD. 

-  Thi  Pea  ■  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding" — Phil.  iv.  7. 

THESE  words  fell   softly  on  my  ears,  and   so  I 
prayed  : 

wt  Give  us  this  peace,  O  God  !  and  in  each  breast 
All  stormy  thoughts  and  feelings  shall  be  stayed, 

And  we  shall  find  in  Thee  our  perfect  rest. 
We*  re  weary  of  the  care,  and  toil,  and  strife — 

These  dark  attendants  of  our  onward  way 
Still  cast  their  dreary  mists  o'er  all  our  life. 

Look  down,  O  Lord  !  and  send  them  all  away." 
And  then  a  voice,  soft,  solemn,  low  and  sweet, 

Seemed  to  my  fancy  whispering  in  my  ear  : 
u  Be  not  cast  down,  nor  troubled  ;  'tis  but  meet 

That  thou  shouldst  bear  thy  cross — then  where- 
fore fear 
The  trials  in  thy  path  ?"     Our  Saviour  looketh 

down, 
And  those  who  work  with  patience  win  at  last  a 

crown ! 

Tamar  Anne  Kermode. 


CHILD-LIKE   SUBMISSION.  21 


CHILD- LIKE  SUB  MI  SSI  OK 

"  My  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned  chill." — Ps.  exxxi.  2. 

TIT  HAT  pleases  God,  O  pious  soul, 
*         Accept  with  joy,  though  thunders  roll 
And  tempests  lower  on  every  side, 
Thou  knowest  naught  can  thee  betide 
But  pleases  God. 

The  best  will  is  our  Father's  will, 
And  we  may  rest  there  calm  and  still ; 
Oh,  make  it  hour  by  hour  thine  own, 
And  wish  for  naught  but  that  alone 
Which  pleases  God. 

His  thought  is  aye  the  wisest  thought ; 
How  oft  man's  wisdom  comes  to  naught ; 
Mistake  or  wisdom  in  it  lurks, 
It  brings  forth  ill  and  seldom  w- orks 
What  pleases  God. 

His  mind  is  aye  the  gentlest  mind, 
His  will  and  deeds  are  ever  kind ; 
He  blesses  when  against  us  speaks 
The  evil  world,  that  rarely  seeks 
What  pleases  God. 


22  CHILDLIKE  SUBMISSION. 


His  heart  is  aye  the  truest  heart, 
He  bids  all  woe  and  harm  depart; 
Defending,  shielding  day  and  night 
The  man  who  knows  and  loves  aright 
What  pleases  God. 

He  governs  all  things  here  below. 
In  Him  lie  all  our  weal  and  woe  ; 
He  bears  the  world  within  His  hand, 
And  so  to  us  bear  sea  and  land 
What  pleases  God. 

And  o'er  His  little  flock  He  yearns, 
And  when  to  evil  ways  it  turns, 
The  Father's  rod  oft  smiteth  sore, 
Until  it  learns  to  do  once  more 
What  pleases  God. 

What  most  would  profit  us  He  knows, 
And  ne'er  denies  aught  good  to  those 
Who  with  their  utmost  strength  pursue 
The  right,  and  only  care  to  do 
What  pleases  God. 

If  this  be  so,  then,  World,  from  me 
Keep,  if  thou  wilt,  what  pleases  thee ; 


CHILD-LIKE  SUBMISSION  23 


But  thou,  my  soul,  be  well  content 
With  God  and  all  things  He  hath  sent, 
As  pleases  God. 

And  must  thou  suffer  here  and  there, 
Cling  but  the  firmer  to  His  care  ; 
For  all  things  are  beneath  His  sway, 
And  must  in  very  truth  obey 
What  pleases  God. 

True  faith  will  grasp  His  mercy  fast, 
And  hope  bring  patience  at  the  last ; 
Then  both  within  thy  heart  enshrine, 
So  shall  the  heritage  be  thine 
That  pleases  God. 

To  thee  for  ever  shall  be  given 
A  kingdom  and  a  throne  in  Heaven  ; 
And  there  shall  be  fulfilled  in  thee, 
And  thou  shalt  taste  and  hear  and  see 
What  pleases  God. 

Paul  Gerhardt, — 1653 


24  C 'II Rl ST   THE   PRIZE. 


o 


CHRIST   THE  PRIZE. 

"  Know  ;/(    not  that  they  which  run  in  a  race  run  all,  hut  one  re- 
cevoetn  the  prize  t    So  run.  that  ye  may  obtain" — 1  Cor.  ix.  24. 

II,  for  a  wrestler's  heart !  a  stern, 
Steady  and  strong  resolve, 
That  will  not  from  the  pathway  turn 
Though  fainting  flesh  dissolve. 

Oh,  for  ambition  keen  !  that  rests 

Not  in  the  upward  flight, 
Until  its  eagle  eye  it  sets 

Upon  the  realms  of  light. 

Oh,  for  love's  longing  soul !  to  press 
Through  dangers,  sins  and  grief, 

Till  the  fair  sight  of  Christ  shall  bless 
Its  wants  with  full  relief. 

And  oh,  for  lowliness  !  to  let 

Tltec,  Saviour,  carry  me  ; 
And  never,  never  to  forget 

Thine  is  my  victory  ! 

E.  A.  W. 


HE  A  VEX  IS  BUSS.  25 


HEAVEN  IS  BLISS. 

"  The  grass  witheretk,  thejiowerfadeth" — Is.  xl.  8. 

"  He  that  doeth  the  icill  of  God  abidethfor  ever." — 1  John  ii.  17. 

rpHE  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn, 

The  brightness  of  the  clay ; 
The  crimson  of  the  sunset  sky, 

How  fast  they  flee  away  ! 
Oh,  for  the  pearly  gates  of  Heaven ! 


Oh,  for  the  golden  floor 


Oh,  for  the  sun  of  righteousness 
That  setteth  nevermore  ! 

The  highest  hopes  we  cherish  here, 

How  fast  they  tire  and  faint ! 
How  many  a  spot  defiles  the  robe 

That  wraps  the  earthly  saint ! 
Oh,  for  a  heart  that  never  sins  ! 

Oh,  for  a  soul  washed  white  ! 
Oh,  for  a  voice  to  praise  our  King, 

Nor  weary  day  nor  night ! 

Here,  faith  is  ours,  and  heavenly  hope, 
And  grace  to  lead  us  higher  ; 

But  there,  are  perfect n ess  and  bliss 
Beyond  our  best  desire. 
3 


26  THE   MASTER'S    WELCOME. 


Oil,  by  thy  love  and  anguish,  Lord  ! 

Oh,  by  thy  life  laid  down  ! 
Oh,  that  we  fall  not  from  Thy  grace, 

Nor  east  away  our  crown  ! 


THE   MASTER'S    WELCOME. 

"  He  that  goetli  forth  and  weepeth,  hearing  -precious  seed,  shall 
doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with 
him." — Ps.  cxxvi.  6. 

fi  O  forth,  the  Master  calls, 
^      Thou  may'st  not  linger  here — 
Forth  from  the  home  thou  lovest  well, 
Forth  from  thy  friends  so  dear. 

Go  weeping  forth — ah,  yes, 

Full  many  a  tear  shall  fall, 
As  on  thou  travelest,  faint  and  weak, 

In  answer  to  that  call. 

Go  weeping  forth,  but  take 

The  precious  seed  with  thee  ; 
Scatter  it  wide  on  every  breeze — 

Bear  it  o'er  every  sea. 

Thou  shalt  return  ;  in  joy 

And  triumph  shalt  thou  come  ; 


BE  STILL.  27 


And  new-born  souls,  with  rapturous  songs, 
Shall  shout  thy  welcome  home. 

Bringing  the  gathered  sheaves 

With  thee,  at  set  of  sun, 
The  Master's  welcoming  voice  shall  say, 

"  Thou  faithful  soul,  well  done  !" 

"  Enter  into  my  rest, 

Thy  labors  now  are  o'er — 
Thy  tears  are  shed,  thy  work  is  done, 

Rest  thee  for  evermore  !" 


BE  STILL! 
"  Peace,  be  still  /"— Mark  W.  39. 

DEACE  !     Be  still ! 

In  this  night  of  sorrow  bow, 
O  my  heart !  contend  not  thou  ! 
What  befalls  thee  is  God's  will — ■ 
Peace  !     Be  still ! 

Peace  !     Be  still ! 
All  thy  murmuring  words  are  vain- 
God  will  make  the  riddle  plain  ; 
Wait  his  word  and  hear  his  will — 

Peace  !     Be  still ! 


2S  SABBATH   DA  VS. 


Hold  thee  still ! 

Though  the  Father  scourge  thee  sore, 
Qljng  thee  to  Him  all  the  more, 
Let  Him  mercy's  work  fulfill! 
Hold  thee  still! 

Hold  thee  still  ! 
Though  the  good  "Physician's  knife 
Seem  to  touch  thy  very  life, 
Death  alone  he  means  to  kill — 

Hold  thee  still ! 

Lord,  my  God ! 
Give  me  grace,  that  I  may  be 
Thy  true  child,  and  silently 
Own  Thy  sceptre  and  Thy  rod, 

Lord,  my  God  ! 

Shepherd  mine  ! 
From  thy  fullness  give  me  still 
Faith  to  do  and  hear  Thy  will, 
Till  the  morning  light  shall  shine, 

Shepherd  mine ! 


SABBATH  DAYS.  29 


SABBATH  DAYS. 
"  Call  the  Sabbath  a  delight."— Is.  Iviii.  13. 

HHYPES  of  eternal  rest,  fair  buds  of  bliss, 

In  heavenly  flowers  unfolding  week  by  week — 
The  next  world's  gladness  imaged  forth  in  this — 
Days  of  whose  worth  the  Christian's  heart  can 
speak  ! 

Eternity  in  time — the  steps  by  which 

We  climb  to  future  ages — lamps  that  light 

Man  through  his  darker  days,  and  thought  enrich, 
Yielding  redemption  for  the  week's  dull  flight. 

Wakeners  of  prayer  in  man — his  resting  bowers, 
As  on  he  journeys  in  the  narrow  way, 

Where,  Eden-like,  Jehovah's  walking  hours 
Are  waited  for  as  in  the  cool  of  day. 

Days  fixed  by  God  for  intercourse  with  dust, 
To  raise  our  thoughts  and  purify  our  powers  ; 

Periods  appointed  to  renew  our  trust — 
A  gleam  of  glory  after  six  days'  showers  ! 

A  milky  way  marked  out  through  skies  else  drear, 
By  radiant  suns,  that  warm  as  well  as  shine — 
3* 


30  THE  CliOWX  OF  THORNS. 


A  clue  which  lie  who  follows  knows  no  fear, 
Though  briers  and  thorns  around  his  pathway 
twine. 

Foretastes  of  heaven  on  earth — pledges  of  joy 
Surpassing  fancy's  flights  and  fiction's  story! 

The  preludes  of  a  feast  that  cannot  cloy, 

And  the  bright  out-courts  of  immortal  glory ! 

Yaugiian. 


TEE  CROWN  OF  THORNS. 

"  They  clothed  him  with  purple,  and  platted  a  crown  of  thorns,  and 
put  it  about  his  head." — Mark  xv.  17. 

TVTIIEX,  through  the   expectant  stillness,  "  Lo, 
"       I  come!" 

Broke,  with  a  sudden  gladness,  on  the  ear, 

That,  but  for  faith,  had  grown  too  dull  to  hear — 
Few  hearts  replied,  "  Hail,  Master!  hail,  our  own  !" 
And  when  He  said,  "  My  Father's  work  is  done," 

And  took  for  throne  the  cross  He  erst  while 
bore, 

The  people,  turning,  looked,  as  they  'd  of  yore, 
To  throne  of  pride,  for  their  Redeeming  One. 
The  Meek  and  Lowly  was  no  Lord  for  them, 

Their  sceptre  not  for  Him — the  sorrow-bowed; 


THE  CROWX  OF  THORNS.  31 


And  so  they  led  Him  from  Jerusalem, 

And  never  saw  God's  anger  through  the  cloud. 
In  bitter,  jesting  mood  they  crowned  His  head, 
And  only  women  wept  when  He  was  dead  ! 

Since  He,  to  whom  all  crowns  are  subject,  won, 
From  man's  appreciation,  but  a  wreath 
Of  thorns,  entwined  by  mocking  unbelief, 

Why  look  for  man  to  judge  what  thou  hast  done  ? 

Yield  thy  account,  O  striver  !  unto  One 

Whose  wisdom  knows  not  an  obscuring  cloud, 
Whose  life  is  doomed  not  to  the  funeral  shroud  ; 

To  Him,  whose  mind  is  brighter  than  the  sun, 

Self-crowned    with    faith,    strive    to   thy   utmost 
strength 
In  thine  own  field,  and  yet  another  crown 

Around  thy  spirit  shall  be  laid,  at  length, 
No  shadow  from  its  circle  drooping  down. 

Only  thy  faith  and  deeds  for  tribute  bring, 

And  He  will  never  ask,  "  Wert  thou  acknowledged 
king  ?" 

Chesebro. 


3  2  THE  ( '  // R  TS  TIAN'S  P  OR  TIOJST. 


THE   CHRISTIAN'S   PORTION. 
'*  If  iv>  Buffer,  wt  shaU  also  reign  with  him." — 2  Tim.  ii.  12. 
A  CUE  on,  ])oor  stricken  heart,  ache  on  ! 
#       Thy  Saviour's  heart  hath  ached  before. 
It  is  thy  precious  benison 

To  bear.     He  bore  ! 

Thy  little  cross  of  pain,  how  light 

Compared  with  that,  ray  soul,  He,  knew ! 
Thy  little  ills  and  cares,  how  slight, 
How  nameless,  few  ! 

Oh  !  had  this  life,  like  summer  day, 

Shone  brightly,  soul,  upon  thy  path  ; 

From  God  thou  long  hadst  stayed  away, 

.V  child  of  wrath. 

But  now  a  drooping,  trembling  thing, 

Oft  sorely  smitten  by  His  rod, 
Thou  comes t,  in  thy  grief,  to  cling 
Closer  to  God. 

Yet  aching,  suffering  heart,  be  still ! 

Soon,  soon  shall  life's  short  pang  be  o'er ; 
With  its  last  pain  it  soon  shall  thrill; 
Then,  feel  no  more  ! 


CHRISTIAN  FREEDOM.  33 


Then  feel  no  more  ?     Ah,  no  !  ah,  no  ! 
Then  feel  but  peace  and  bliss  alone  ; 
Then  feel  what  angels  feel — then  know 
Their  joys  its  own. 

Oh  that  it  now  might  rise  and  win 

That  conquest  still  to  conflict  given, 
And  garner  up  its  hopes  within 
Its  God — its  heaven  ! 

Oh,  thus  with  Jesus  by  thy  side, 

What  are  this  earth's  low  griefs  to  thee 
Up,  then  !  in  God's  high  strength  abide — 
In  Him  be  free  ! 

Free  in  the  soul's  unfettered  flight ! 

Free  in  the  love  that  wings  its  way 
Where  all  is  pure— where  all  is  bright — 
Heaven's  cloudless  day  ! 


CHRISTIAN    FREEDOM. 

Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty." — 2  Cor.  iii.  17. 

A    LITTLE  bird  I  am 

Shut  from  the  fields  of  air  ; 
And  in  my  cage  I  sit  and  sing, 
To  Him  who  placed  me  there ; 


34  CHRIST! AX  FREEDOM. 


Well  pleased  a  prisoner  to  be, 
Because,  my  God,  it  pleases  Thee ! 

Naught  have  I  else  to  do  ; 

I  sing  the  whole  day  long  ; 
And  He,  whom  most  I  love  to  please, 

Doth  listen  to  my  song. 
He  caught  and  bound  my  wandering  wing, 
But  still  lie  bends  to  hear  me  sing. 

Thou  hast  an  ear  to  hear  ; 

A  heart  to  love  and  bless ; 
And  though  my  notes  were  e'er  so  rude, 

Thou  wouldst  not  hear  the  less  ; 
Because  Thou  knowest  as  they  fall 
That  love,  sweet  love,  inspires  them  all ! 

My  cage  confines  me  round  ; 

Abroad  I  cannot  fly  ; 
But  though  my  wing  is  closely  bound, 

My  heart's  at  liberty. 
My  prison  walls  cannot  control 
The  flight,  the  freedom  of  the  soul ! 

Oh  !  it  is  good  to  soar, 

These  bolts  and  bars  above 


THE  WEARY  WATCHER.  35 


To  Thee,  whose  purpose  I  adore, 

Whose  providence  is  love  ; 

And  in  Thy  mighty  Will  to  find, 

The  joy,  the  freedom  of  the  mind. 

Madame  Guion. 


THE    WEARY    WATCHER. 
"  Coaldst  not  thou  watch  one  hour?" — Mark  xiv.  37. 

rpHY  night  is  dark  !  behold  !  the  shade  is  deeper 

In  the  old  garden  of  Gethsemane  ; 
When  that  calm  voice  awoke  the  wreary  sleeper, 
Couldst  thou  not  watch  one  hour  alone  with  me  ? 

Oh,  thou,  so  weary  of  thy  self-denials, 
And  so  impatient  of  thy  little  cross  ; 

Is  it  so  hard  to  bear  thy  daily  trials, 

To  count  all  earthly  things  a  gainful  loss  ? 

What  if  thou  always  suffer  tribulation, 
And  if  thy  Christian  warfare  never  cease ; 

The  gaining  of  the  quiet  habitation 
Shall  gather  thee  to  everlasting  peace. 

But  here  wre  all  must  suffer,  walking  lonely 
The  path  that  Jesus  once  himself  hath  gone ; 


36  THE   WEARY  WATCHER 


Watch  thou  in  patience  through  this  hour  only. 
This  one  dark  hour  before  the  eternal  dawn. 

The  captive's  oar  may  pause  upon  the  galley, 
The  soldier  sleep  beneath  his  plumed  crest, 

And  Peace  may  fold  her  wing  o'er  hill  and  valley 
But  thou,  O  Christian  !  must  not  take  thy  rest 

Thou  must  walk  on,  however  man  upbraid  thee, 
With  Him  who  trod  the  wine-press  all  alone  ; 

Thou  wilt  not  find  one  human  hand  to  aid  thee, 
One  human  soul,  to  comprehend  thine  own. 

Heed  not  the  images  for  ever  thronging 

From  out  the  foregone  life  thou  livest  no  more ; 

Faint-hearted  mariner,  still  art  thou  longing        * 
For  the  dim  line  of  the  receding  shore. 

Wilt  thou  find  rest  of  soul  in  thy  returning 
To  that  old  path  thou  hast  so  vainly  trod  ? 

Hast  thou  forgotten  all  thy  weary  yearning 
To  walk  among  the  children  of  thy  God  ? 

Faithful  and  steadfast  in  their  consecration, 
Living  by  that  high  faith  to  thee  so  dim, 


THE   WEARY  WATCHER,  37 


9" 


Declaring  before  God  their  dedication, 
So  far  from  thee,  because  so  near  to  Hir\ 

Canst  thou  forget  thy  Christian  superscription — 
"  Behold,  we  count  them  happy  which  endure  ; 

What  treasure  wouldst  thou,  in  the  land  Egyptian, 
Repass  the  stormy  water  to  secure  ? 

And  wilt  thou  yield  thy  sure  and  glorious  promise 
For  the  poor  fleeting  joys  earth  can  afford? 

No  hand  can  take  away  the  treasure  from  us 
That  rests  within  the  keeping  of  the  Lord. 

Poor  wandering  soul!  I  know  that  thou  art  seek- 
ing 

Some  easier  way,  as  all  have  sought  before, 
To  silence  the  reproachful  inward  speaking — 

Some  landward  path  unto  an  island  shore  ! 

The  cross  is  heavy  in  thy  human  measure, 
The  way  too  narrow  for  thine  inward  pride, 

Thou  canst  not  lay  thine  intellectual  treasure 
At  the  low  footstool  of  the  Crucified. 

Oh  that  thy  faithless  soul,  one  hour  only 

Would  comprehend  the  Christian's  perfect  life ; 
4 


SAVED   BY  GRACE. 


Despised  with  Jesus,  sorrowful  aud  lonely, 
Yet  calmly  looking  upward  in  its  strife! 

For  poverty  and  self-renunciation, 
Their  Father  yieldeth  back  a  thousand  fold ; 

In  the  calm  stillness  of  regeneration 
Cometh  a  joy  they  never  knew  of  old. 

In  meek  obedience  to  the  heavenly  Teacher, 
Thy  weary  soul  can  only  find  its  peace ; 

Seeking  no  aid  from  any  human  creature  ; 
Looking  to  God  alone  for  His  release. 

And  He  will  come  in  His  own  time  and  power, 
To  set  his  earnest-hearted  children  free ; 

Watch  only  through  this  dark  and  painful  hour, 
And  the  bright  morning  yet  will  break  for  thee. 


A 


SAVED  BY  GRACE. 

"  By  grace  ye  are  saved." — Ern.  ii.  5. 
N  outcast  I,  deep  dyed  in  sin  ; 


Fears  without  and  strife  within 
How  shall  I,  if  I  wish,  begin 
To  save  my  soul  from  hell  ? 


SA  VED  BY  GRACE.  39 


All  human  sympathy  denied, 
I've  yearned,  upon  a  river's  side, 
My  sorrow  and  my  pangs  to  hide 
Beneath  its  rippling  swell. 

And  could  I  from  my  mind  dismiss 
The  reck'ning  for  life  spent  amiss, 
How  gladly  would  I  barter  this 

For  an  eternal  sleep  ! 
"  But  in  that  sleep  what  dreams  may  come  ?" 
The  Jud^e  !  the  Record  !  and  the  Doom  ! 
Unceasing  anguish  !  endless  o-loom  ! 

A  dark  and  vasty  deep  ! 

Xo  !     Rather  would  I  brave  the  worst ; 
Be  deemed  of  men  a  man  accurst ! 
Live  on,  with  heart  disposed  to  burst, 

Than  face  an  angry  God  ! 
What,  if  by  men  not  understood  ! 
What  if,  perverting  motives  good, 
They  deem  me  bad  !     In  humble  mood 

I'll  kiss  the  chast'ning  rod. 

For,  though  as  'gainst  my  fellow  man, 
In  honor,  I  both  will  and  can 


K>  SAVED  BY   GRACE. 


My  station  take.     In  God's  great  plan 

I  recreant  am. 
For  I  have  been  with  mercies  crowned  ; 
Have  floated  while  my  shipmates  drowned ; 
Have  health  preserved  and  safety  found 

In  storm  and  calm. 

If  gratitude  be  born  of  earth, 

Where  shall  we  seek  her  place  of  birth 

But  in  his  heart — devoid  of  worth, 

And  yet  sustained  from  harm ! 
Whose  friends,  unstable  as  the  dust, 
And  many  ties  consumed  with  rust, 
Tell  him  that  he  can  only  trust 

To  an  Almighty  Arm. 

For  God's  great  fiat  has  gone  forth — 
Man's  efforts  are  of  little  worth, 
Unless  his  soul,  renewed  in  birth, 

Clings  to  the  Cross  alone. 
Then  cast  aside  long  prayers  and  fasts, 
In  shattered  hulls  with  broken  masts, 
Come,  hasten  to  the  rich  repasts, 

The  bridal  garment  on. 


BE  KIND   AND  FORGIVING.  41 


That  bridal  garment,  wove  of  faith, 
Such  rare  and  wondrous  virtue  hath, 
It  frees  the  soul  from  sin  and  wrath, 

And  fits  it  for  a  throne. 
Saviour  !  Master  !  Man  and  God  ! 
The  pilgrim's  staff!  The  prophet's  rod  ! 
Until  I  sink  beneath  the  sod, 

Thou  shalt  my  pattern  be. 
At  humble  distance,  I'll  pursue 
The  thorny  path.     Each  day  renew 
The  prayer  to  be  disciple  true, 

And  steadfast  follow  Thee. 

Lynch. 


BE  KIND  AND  FORGIVING. 

"  Be  ye  hind  one  to  another,  tender -hearted,  forgiving  one  anot/iert 
even  as  God  for  OJcrisfs  sake  hath  forgiven  you." — Eph.  iv.  32. 

npHAXK  God,  that  in  life's  little  day, 

Between  our  dawn  and  setting, 
We  have  kind  deeds  to  give  away ; 
Sad  hearts  for  which  our  own  may  pray, 
And  strength,  when  we  are  wronged,  to  stay, 
Forgiving  and  forgetting ! 
4* 


42  BE  KIND   AND   FORGIVING. 


Thank  God,  for  other  feet  that  be 
By  ours  in  life's  way-faring  ; 

For  blessed  Christian  charity  ; 

Believing  when  she  cannot  see, 

Suffering  her  friend's  infirmity, 
Enduring  and  forbearing  ! 

We  are  all  travelers,  who  throng 

A  thorny  road  together  ; 
And  if  some  pilgrim  not  so  strong 
As  I,  but  foot-sore,  does  me  wrong, 
I'll  make  excuse — the  road  is  long, 

And  stormy  is  the  weather. 

What  comfort  will  it  yield  the  day 
Whose  light  shall  find  us  dying, 
To  know  that  once  we  had  our  way 
Against  a  child  of  weaker  clay, 
And  bought  our  triumph  in  the  fray 
With  purchase  of  his  sighing  ? 


FAITH'S  ANSWER.  43 


FAITH'S  ANSWER. 


"  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  saying,  Whom  shall  I  send ',  and 
who  ivill  go  for  us.  Then  said  I,  Here  am  I ;  send  me" — Is. 
vi.  8. 

QTILL,  as  of  old,  Thy  precious  word 

Is  by  the  nations  faintly  heard  ; 
The  hearts  its  holiness  hath  stirred 

Are  weak  and  few. 
Wise  men  the  secret  dare  not  tell ; 
Still  in  Thy  temple  slumbers  well 
Good  Eli ;  oh,  like  Samuel, 

Lord,  here  am  I ! 

Few  years,  no  wisdom,  no  renown, 
Only  my  life  can  I  lay  down  ; 
Only  my  heart,  Lord,  to  thy  throne 

I  bring  !  and  pray 
That,  child  of  Thine,  I  may  go  forth 
And  spread  glad  tidings  through  the  earth, 
And  teach  sad  hearts  to  know  Thy  worth — 

Lord,  here  am  I ! 

Thy  messenger,  All-living  One  ! 
The  errands  of  Thy  truth  to  run ; 
The  wisdom  of  Thy  holy  Son 
To  teach,  and  live ! 


44  FAITH'S  ANSWER. 


No  purse  or  scrip,  no  staff  or  sword  ; 
Be  pure  intent  my  wings,  0  Lord  ! 
Be  innocence  my  magic  word — 
Lord,  here  am  I ! 

Young  lips  may  teach, the  wise,  Christ  said; 
Weak  feet  sad  wanderers  home  have  led ; 
Small  hands  have  cheered  the  sick  one's  bed 

With  freshest  flowers  ! 
Yet  teach  me,  Father,  heed  their  sighs, 
While  many  a  soul  in  darkness  lies 
And  waits  this  message  ;  make  me  wise — 

Lord,  here  am  I ! 

And  make  me  strong  ;  that,  staff  aixl  stay, 
And  guide  and  guardian  of  the  way, 
To  Thee-ward  I  may  bear  each  day 

Some  precious  soul, 
"  Speak,  for  I  hear  !"  make  "pure  in  heart  " 
Thy  face  to  see,  Thy  truth  impart 
In  hut  and  hall,  in  church  and  mart — 

Lord,  here  am  I ! 

I  ask  no  heaven  till  earth  be  Thine  ; 
Nor  glory-crown,  while  work  of  mine 
Remaineth  here  :   when  earth  shall  shine 
Among  the  stars, 


LONGWG  FOR  JESUS.  45 


Her  sins  wiped  out,  her  captives  free, 

Her  voice  a  music  unto  Thee — 

For  crown,  new  work  give  Thou  to  me — 

Lord,  here  am  I ! 

C.  Whitmarsh. 


LONGING  FOE  JESUS. 

"Ye  shall  desire  to  see  one  of  the  days  of  the  Son  of  man." — 
Luke  xvii.  22. 

TF  Jesus  came  to  earth  again, 

And  walked  and  talked  in  field  and  street, 
Who  would  not  lay  his  human  pain 

Low  at  those  heavenly  feet  ? 

* 

And  leave  the  loom,  and  leave  the  lute, 
And  leave  the  volume  on  the  shelf, 

To  follow  Him — unquestioning,  mute, 
If  'twere  the  Lord  himself? 

How  many  a  brow  with  care  o'eivworn, 
How  many  a  heart  with  grief  o'erladen, 

How  many  a  youth  with  love  forlorn, 
How  many  a  mourning  maiden, 

Would  leave  the  baffling,  earthly  prize, 
Which  fails  the  earthly,  weak  endeavor, 


4tf  L0XG1XG    FOR   JESUS. 


To  gaze  into  those  holy  eyes 
And  drink  content  for  ever  ? 

The  mortal  hope  I  ask,  with  tears, 

Of  Heaven,  to  soothe  this  mortal  pain- 

The  dream  of  all  my  darkened  years — 
I  should  not  cling  to,  then. 

The  pride  that  prompts  the  bitter  jest — 
(Sharp  styptic  of  a  broken  heart !) 

Would  fail,  and  humbly  leave,  confessed, 
The  sin  that  brought  the  smart. 

If  I  might  crouch  within  the  fold 

Of  that  white  robe — a  wounded  bird, 

The  face  that  Mary  saw  behold, 
And  hear  the  word  she  heard, 

I  would  not  ask  one  word  of  all 

That  now  my  nature  yearns  to  know  ; 
The  legend  of  the  ancient  fall ; 

The  source  of  human  woe  ! 

i 

What  hopes  in  other  worlds  may  hide  ; 
What  griefs  yet  unexplored  in  this  ; 


LONGING  FOR  JESUS. 


M 


How  fares  the  soul  within  the  wide, 
Waste  track  of  that  abyss  ? 

I  would  not  ask  one  word  of  this, 

If  I  might  only  hide  my  head 
On  that  beloved  breast,  and  kiss 

The  wound  where  Jesus  bled  ! 

And  I,  where'er  He  went  would  go, 

Nor  question  where  the  path  might  lead ; 

Enough  to  know  that  here  below 
I  walked  with  God  indeed. 

If  this  be  thus,  O  Lord  of  mine  ! 

In  absence  is  thy  love  forgot  ? 
And  must  I,  where  I  walk,  repine 

Because  I  see  Thee  not  ? 

Yet  is  my  heart  indeed  so  weak, 
My  course  alone  I  dare  not  trace  ! 

Alas  !  I  know  my  heart  must  break 
Before  I  see  Thy  face. 

And  all  is  dark,  before,  behind  ; 

I  cannot  reach  Thee  where  Thou  art ; 


48  THE    WOUXDET)    CHRIST. 


I  cannot  bring  Thee  to  my  mind, 
Nor  clasp  Thee  to  my  heart. 

Oh,  nearer  to  me  in  the  dark 

Of  Life's  low  hours,  one  moment  stand, 

And  give  me  keener  eyes  to  mark 

The  moving  of  Thy  hand  ! 

Owen  Meredith. 


THE   WOUNDED  CHRIST. 

"  Beltold  my  and  hands  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself." 
Luke  xxiv.  39. 

YITOUNDED  hands  and  pierced  side, 

Of  my  Saviour  crucified, 
Pierced  feet  and  thorn-pressed  brow, 
Oh  that  I  could  see  them  now ! 
See  the  stripes  which  healed  my  soul, 
See  the  wounds  which  made  me  whole ! 
Jesus,  precious  Saviour,  shine 
On  this  longing  soul  of  mine  ! 
Stay  my  heart  upon  Thy  word 
While  thou  art  my  absent  Lord. 
Make  me  at  each  morning's  light 
Fairer,  Jesus,  in  Thy  sight. 
With  each  nightfall  give  me  rest, 
On  my  blessed  Saviour's  breast. 


PASS  ME  NOT!  49 


Daily  living  on  Thy  grace 
Till  I  see  Thy  glorious  face, 
Draw  me  closer  to  Thy.side, 
Oh,  my  Saviour  crucified  ! 
Satan  says,  How  can  you  dare 
Make  your  rest  and  refuge  there, 
When  you  know  your  heart  within 
Is  a  dreadful  pit  of  sin  ? 
Yet,  my  precious  Riven  Rock, 
Close  round  Thee  my  arms  I  lock. 
Just  because  I'd  else  despair, 
I  have  rushed  for  refuse  there. 
Jesus'  love  has  opened  wide 
For  my  soul  his  pierced  side. 


L. 


PASS   ME   NOT! 

"  And  they  told  him,  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by.  And  he 
cried,  saying,  Jesus,  thou  son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me." — 
Luke  xviii.  37,  38. 

I"  ORD  !  I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing 
Thou  art  scattering,  full  and  free — 
Showers,  the  thirsty  land  refreshing  ; 
Let  some  droppings  fall  on  me — 

Even  me. 
5 


50  PASS   ME  NOT ! 


Pass  me  not,  0  God,  our  Father  ! 

Sinful  though  my  heart  may  be ; 
Thou  might's*  leave  me,  but  the  rather 

Let  thy  mercy  light  on  me — 

Even  me. 

Pass  me  not,  O  gracious  Saviour  ! 

Let  me  live  and  cling  to  thee  ; 
For  I'm  longing  for  thy  favor. 

Whilst  thou  'rt  calling,  oh  !  call  me — 

Even  me. 

Pass  me  not,  O  mighty  Spirit ! 

Thou  canst  make  the  blind  to  see  ; 
Witnesses  of  Jesus'  merit ! 

Speak  some  word  of  power  to  me — 

Even  me. 

Have  I  long  in  sin  been  sleeping — 
Loner  been  slighting,  grieving  Thee? 

O  O  O7    o  o 

Has  the  world  my  heart  been  keeping  ? 
Oh,  forgive  and  rescue  me ! 

Even  me. 

Love  of  God,  so  pure  and  changeless  ; 
Blood  of  Christ,  so  rich  and  free  ; 


THIS  IS  PEACE!  51 


Grace  of  God,  so  strong  and  boundless, 
Magnify  it  all  in  me  ! 

Even  me. 

Pass  me  not !  thy  lost  one  bringing, 
Bind  my  heart,  0  Lord  !  to  thee. 
Whilst  the  streams  of  ljfe  are  springing, 
Blessing  others,  oh,  bless  me  ! 

Even  me. 
— Dublin  Hymn  Boole. 


THIS  IS  PEACE! 

"  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  Thee ; 
because  he  trusteth  in  Thee." — Isaiah  xxvi.  3. 

A    MIND  at  "  perfect  peace  "  with  God  ; 
Oh,  what  a  word  is  this ! 
A  sinner  reconciled  through  blood — 
This,  this  indeed  is  peace  ! 

By  nature  and  by  practice  far — 

How  very  far  from  God  ! 
Yet  now  by  grace  brought  nigh  to  Him, 

Through  faith  in  Jesus'  blood. 

So  nigh,  so  very  nigh  to  God, 
I  cannot  nearer  be  ; 


52  IT  IS  FITLY  DONE. 


For,  in  the  person  of  his  Son, 
I  am  as  near  as  He. 

So  dear,  so  very  dear  to  God, 

More  dear  I  cannot  be  ; 
The  love  wherewith  He  loves  the  Son, 

Such  is  His  love  to  me. 

Why  should  I  ever  careful  be, 

Since  such  a  God  is  mine  ? 
He  watches  o'er  me  night  and  day, 

And  tells  me,  "  Mine  is  thine." 

—Dublin  Hymn  Book. 


IT  IS  FITLY  BONE. 

"  He  hath  done  all  things  well." — Mark  vii.  37. 

TFHATE'ER  God  does  is  fitly  done— 

To  change  my  evil  nature 
He  gave  His  Spirit,  through  His  Son, 
And  formed  me  a  new  creature. 
His  mercy  's  sure, 
It  will  endure  ; 
And  on  this  firm  foundation 
I  rest  me  for  salvation. 


IT  IS  FITLY  LONE.  53 


Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done, 

And  right  His  sovereign  pleasure ; 
Since  He  has  made  my  care  His  own, 
I'll  trust  His  every  measure. 
He  is  my  God, 
Through  all  my  road 
He  knows  how  to  sustain  me, 
And  for  His  service  train  me. 

Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done — 
He  is  my  guide,  defender  ; 
In  various  forms  His  care  is  shown — 
To  Him  my  will  I  render 

In  joy  or  woe  ; 

And  time  will  show 
How  well  He  has  directed, 
And  all  my  way  protected. 

Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done, 

And  all  for  wisest  reasons  ; 
By  best  of  paths  He  leads  me  on, 
And  at  the  darkest  seasons ; 
I  find  His  grace 
In  every  place, 
And  conscious  of  His  keeping, 
I  change  to  joy  my  weeping. 
5* 


54  DRAWING   NEARER    TO   GOD. 


Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done — 

Of  this  I  have  assurance  ; 
True  He  may  make  my  pathway  one 
Of  trial  and  endurance ; 
Still  I  shall  share 
His  loving  care — 
His  circling  arms  enfold  me, 
And  when  I  die  will  hold  me. 

Whate'er  God  does  is  fitly  done — 

His  cup — shall  I  refuse  it 
Because  it  is  a  bitter  one  ? 
He  sees  it  best — I  choose  it. 
And  He  at  last 
Will  make  me  rest 
Where  duty  has  no  trials, 
And  needs  no  self-denials. 


DRAWING  NEARER   TO   GOD. 

"  Now  is  our  salvation  nearer  than  when  tee  believed." — Romans 

xiii.  11. 

REARER  !     Yes  !  we  feel  it  not 
'Mid  the  rushing  of  the  strife. 
As  we  mourned  our  changeful  lot, 
Toiled  beneath  our  shadowed  life, 


DRAWING   NEARER    TO    GOD.  55 


By  each  step  our  worn  feet  trod, 
We  were  drawing  near  to  God. 

When  the  day  was  all  withdrawn, 
And  we  walked  in  tenfold  night ; 

When  we  panted  for  the  dawn 
Of  the  ever  blessed  Light ; 

In  those  hours  of  darkness  dim, 

We  were  drawing  near  to  Him. 

When,  beneath  the  sudden  stroke, 
All  our  joys  of  life  went  down ; 

When  our  best-beloved  broke 

Earthly  bounds  to  take  their  crown ; 

By  the  upward  path  they  trod, 

Nearer  drew  we  to  our  God. 

In  those  days  of  bitter  woe, 

When  we  saw  their  smile  no  more, 

When  our  hearts  were  bleeding  slow, 
Stricken  !  stricken  !  oh,  how  sore  ! 

While  we  lay  beneath  the  rod 

We  were  nearer  to  our  God. 

When  upon  our  lifted  eye 

Gleamed  a  vision  of  our  Home ; 


56  THE  LORD'S   PRISONER. 


When  we  saw  the  glory  high, 

Flooding  all  that  spotless  dome  ; 
In  that  hour  of  raptured  sight, 
Pressed  we  nearer  our  delight. 

Through  the  long  and  vanished  years, 
Doubting,  struggling,  and  depressed 

Shrouded  with  their  mists  of  tears, 
We  were  passing  to  our  rest ; 

Tempest-tossed  and  current-driven, 

Ever  drawing  nearer  Heaven. 


A 


THE  LORD'S  PRISONER. 

11  To  bring  out  the  prisoners  from  the  prison." — Isaiah  xlii.  7. 

PRISONER  of  hope, 
And  even  here  held  in  the  Lord's 
embrace, 
That,  first  of  heaven's  glories,  thou  may'st  see  His 
face, 
When  Death  thy  cell  shall  ope  ! 

The  chains  of  sense  and  sin 
That  fetter  now  thy  spirit  wear  away, 
One  link,  and  now  another,  day  by  day, 

As  Jesus  "  shuts  thee  in." 


THE  LORD'S  PRISONER.  57 


The  exile  homeward  bound 
Still  hasteth,  though  he  groans  'neath  mortal  load. 
The  racer  sometimes  faints  along  the  road, 

Before  his  brows  are  crowned. 

Yet  still  the  Master's  breast 
Is  near  when  earthly  rests  are  all  removed ; 
His  heart  beats  closest  to  His  own  beloved, 

When  He  alone  is  guest. 

In  this  hushed  house  of  grief, 
Where  linger  still  the  echoes  of  their  feet 
Who  bore  away  our  dearest— golden  wheat 

And  flowers  in  one  sheaf— 

We  patiently  would  wait 
Until  we  hear  the  Master's  longed-for  call ; 
Until  our  spirits  catch  His  far  foot-fall 

This  side  the  city's  gate. 

Then,  gladly  and  in  haste, 
As  Mary  erst,  would  we  arise  and  fling 
The  damps  and  darkness  off  which  ever  cling 

Where  Death's  sad  lines  are  traced. 

Thou  earnest,  Lord,  to  free 
Poor  prisoners,  like  me,  from  earthly  chains. 


58  THE  DISCHARGE. 


My  ransom-price  is  paid.    Xo  debt  remains 
To  witness  against  me. 

So  when  Thy  pierced  feet 
Draw  near  my  prison-house,  straightway  the  door 
Flies  open,  and  with  Thee  for  evermore 


I  tread  the  golden  street. 


L. 


THE   DISCHARGE. 


"Be  careful  for  nothing  ;  but  in  every  thing  by  'prayer  and  suppli- 
cation, with  thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  7)iade  hiown  unto 
God:7— Phil.  iv.  6. 

T)USY,    inquiring    heart,    what    wTouldst    thou 
■"  know  ? 

Why  dost  thou  pry, 
And  turn,  and  leer,  and  with  a  licorous*  eye, 

Look  high  and  low  ; 
And  in  thy  lookings  stretch  and  glare  ? 

Hast  thou  not  made  thy  counts,  and  summ'd  up 

all? 

Did  not  thy  heart 
Give  up  the  whole,  and  with  the  whole  depart  ? 

Let  what  will  fall ; 
That  which  is  past,  who  can  recall  ? 

*  Tempting. 


THE  DISCHARGE.  59 


Thy  life  is  God's,  thy  time  to  come  is  gone, 

And  His  is  right. 
He  is  thy  night  at  noon  ;  He  is  at  night 

Thy  noon  alone. 
The  crop  is  His,  for  He  hath  sown. 

And  well  it  was  for  thee,  when  this  befell, 

That  God  did  make 
Thy  business  His,  and  in  thy  life  partake ; 

For  thou  canst  tell, 
If  it  be  his  once,  all  is  well ! 

Only  the  present  is  thy  part  and  fee, 

And  happy  thou, 
If,  though  thou  didst  not  beat  thy  future  brow, 

Thou  couldst  well  see 
What  present  things  required  of  thee. 

They  ask  enough  ;  why  shouldst  thou  further  go  ? 

Raise  not  the  mud 
Of  future  depths,  but  drink  the  clear  and  good. 

Dig  not  for  woe 
In  times  to  come  ;  for  it  will  grow. 

Man  and  the  present  fit ;  if  he  provide, 
He  breaks  the  square. 


GO  TIIK  DISCHARGE. 


This  hour  is  mine  ;  if  for  the  next  I  care, 

I  grow  too  wide  ; 
And  do  encroach  upon  Death's  side. 

For  Death  each  hour  environs  and  surrounds. 

lie  that  would  know 
And  care  for  future  chances,  cannot  go 

Unto  those  grounds, 
But  through  a  church-yard  which  them  bounds. 

Things  present   shrink   and  die ;    but   they  that 
spend 

Their  thoughts  and  sense 
On  future  grief,  do  not  remove  it  thence, 

But  it  extend  ; 
And  draw  the  bottom  out  an  end. 

i  God  chains  the  dog  till  night ;  wilt  loose  the  chain 

And  wake  thy  sorrow  ? 
Wilt  thou  forestall  it  now,  and  grieve  to-morrow  ; 

And  then  a^ain 
Grieve  over  freshly  all  thy  pain  ? 

Either  grief  will  not  come  ;  or  if  it  must, 
Do  not  forecasl  ; 


THE  LAMB  SLAW.  61 


For  while  it  cometh,  it  is  almost  past. 

Away  distrust ! 
My  God  hath  promised — He  is  just ! 

George  Herbert. 


THE  LAMB    SLAIN. 

"  And  they  shall  see  His  face'1 — Rev.  xxii.  4. 
"  A  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain11 — Rev.  v.  6. 

TTAIL  !  thou  Head,  so  bruised  and  wounded, 

With  the  crown  of  thorns  surrounded  ; 
Smitten  with  the  mocking  reed, 
Wounds  which  may  not  cease  to  bleed, 

Trickling  faint  and  slow. 
Hail !  from  whose  most  blessed  brow 
None  can  wipe  the  blood-drops  now  ; 
All  the  bloom  of  life  has  fled, 
Mortal  paleness  there  instead  ; 
Thou  before  whose  presence  dread, 

Angels  trembling  bow. 

All  thy  vigor  and  thy  life 
Fading  in  this  bitter  strife ; 
Death  his  stamp  on  thee  has  set, 
Hollow  and  emaciate, 

Faint  und  drooping  there. 
6 


02  THE  LAMB  SLA IX. 


Thou  this  agony  and  scorn 
Hast  for  me  a  sinner  borne  ! 
Me,  unworthy,  all  for  me  ! 
With  those  wounds  of  love  on  thee, 
Glorious  Face,  appear ! 

Yet  in  this  thine  agony, 
Faithful  Shepherd,  think  of  me. 
From  whose  lips  of  love  divine 
Sweetest  draughts  of  life  are  mine, 

Purest  honey  flows ! 
All  unworthy  of  thy  thought, 
Guilty,  yet  reject  me  not. 
Unto  me  thy  head  incline — 
Let  that  dying  head  of  thine 

In  mine  arms  repose. 

Let  me  true  communion  know, 
With  thee  in  thy  sacred  woe  ; 
Counting  all  beside  but  dross, 
Dying  with  thee  on  thy  cross  : 

'Xeath  it  will  I  die. 
Thanks  to  thee,  with  every  breath, 
Jesus,  for  thy  bitter  death. 
Grant  thy  guilty  one  this  prayer, 
When  my  dying  hour  is  near. 

( rracious  God,  be  nigh  ! 


THE  FAITHLESS   CHRISTIAN.  •  63 


When  my  dying  hour  must  be, 
Be  not  absent  then  from  me ; 
In  that  dreadful  hour,  I  pray, 
Jesus  come  without  delay ; 

See,  and  set  me  free. 
When  thou  biddest  me  depart, 
Whom  I  cleave  to  with  my  heart ; 
Lover  of  my  soul,  be  near, 
With  thy  saving  Cross  appear ; 

Show  thyself  to  me  ! 

St.  Bernard. 

From  Chron.  of  Schonberq-Cotta  Family.    .  . 

THE  FAITHLESS   CHRISTIAN. 

u  0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  V — Matt. 

xiv.  31. 

PM  weak — so  weak,  an  infant's  clasp 
Is  mightier  than  mine  to-night. 
I  fear  I  ne'er  have  held  aright 

The  Cross  I  vainly  strive  to  grasp. 

I'm  like  a  reed  swayed  by  the  wind ! 
Ah,  sorrow's  angel,  sad  and  stern, 
Must  school  the  heart  so  slow  to  learn ! 

How  long,  Lord,  must  the  battle  last? 


64  THE   FAITHLESS  CHRISTIAN. 


And  yet  I  shrink  with  sudden  chill 
From  threatened  discipline  of  loss — 
My  nerveless  hands  unclasp  this  cross. 

Hopeless,  I  suffer  and  lie  still. 

Until  a  touch  of  an^el  wimrs, 
Or  dearer  still,  my  mother's  kiss, 
Brings  near  a  sense  of  Heaven's  bliss, 

With  longings  deep  for  holy  things. 

Dear,  patient,  interceding  Lord, 
My  Saviour  loving  after  death, 
Thy  heart  of  pleading  pity  saith 

Through  every  opening  wound  outpoured  ; 

"  Oh,  child,  so  ready  to  mistrust 

The  love  that  knows  no  end  or  bound, 
Must  thou  into  mine  every  wound  * 

Thy  hand  so  unbelieving  thrust  ? 

"  What  need  has  thou  of  doubt  and  fear  ? 

Those  weapons  are  my  foes,  not  mine. 

Glad  hope  and  blessed  trust  be  thine, 
And  not  the  mocking  soldier's  spear. 

"  Poor  trembling  child  !     I  know  how  weak 
Is  mortal  flesh  ;  for  every  stroke 


THE  FAITHLESS   CHRISTIAN.  65 


That  smites  thee,  on  thy  Saviour  broke, 
Before  it  touched  thy  shrinking  cheek. 

"  And  yet  so  fearful  still  thou  art, 
When  to  unlock  thy  earthward  grasp 
I  touch,  with  pierced  hand  to  clasp 

Thee  only  nearer  to  my  heart  I" 

O  soul,  so  slow  to  hear,  so  dumb, 
Unanswering  to  each  tender  word ! 
At  last  thy  deepest  heart  is  stirred — 

61  Dear  Saviour,  as  a  child  I  come  ! 

"  No  longer  with  a  hireling's  dread, 
I  run  to  rest  within  Thine  arms. 
Life's  fiercest  storms  can  never  harm 
My  safely,  sweetly  sheltered  head. 

"  Thy  love,  not  mine !  Thy  hold  so  strong, 
And  not  my  wavering  clasp  makes  sure 
My  safety.     I  can  stand  secure 

Although  the  strife  be  hard  and  long." 


6* 


6Q  HEART,  HEART,  LIE  STILL! 


HEART,  HEART,  LIE  STLLL ! 
"  I  sleep,  but  my  heart  wdketh,'" — Cant.  v.  2. 

«  TIE  ART,  heart,  lie  still ; 

Life  is  fleeting  fast, 
Strife  will  soon  be  past !" 
"  I  cannot  lie  still, 
Beat  strong  I  will !" 

"  Heart,  heart,  lie  still ! 

Joy  's  but  joy,  and  pain  's  but  pain, 
Either  little  loss  or  gain." 
"  I  cannot  lie  still, 
Beat  strong  I  will !" 

u  Heart,  heart,  lie  still ! 
Heaven,  over  all, 
Rules  this  earthly  ball." 
"  I  cannot  lie  still. 
Beat  strong  I  will." 

"  Heart,  heart,  lie  still ! 

Heaven's  sweet  grace,  alone, 
Can  keep,  in  peace,  its  own." 
"  Let  that  me  fill 
And  I  am  still !" 


THY  HOMESICK   CHILD.  67 


THY  HOMESICK   CHILD. 

"  Why  cannot  I  follow  thee  now." — John  xiii.  37. 

TOME,  home  !  dear  Father,  take  thy  poor  child 
'-"     home, 

And  let  me  rest  from  sin  and   strife  and  sor- 
row. 
Lord  Jesus,  tarry  not !  Oh,  quickly  come  ! 

Bid  me  to  sleep,  to  wake  in  heaven  to-morrow. 

'T  would  matter  little  how  severe  the  pain, 

How  fierce  the  mortal  struggle,  hard  the  dying ; 

Once  o'er,  I  ne'er  should  taste  of  death  again, 
Xor  sin,  nor  grieve,  in  Jesus'  bosom  lying. 

Yet,  Lord,  Thy  holy  eyes,  which  try  the  soul, 
Must  see  in  wretched  me  such  depths  of  sin- 
ning, 
That  while  I  hoped  my  feet  were  near  the  goal, 
Thou  'dst  know  me  just  the  race  to  be  begin- 
ning. 

And  so  I'd  rather  leave  it  all  to  Thee, 

One  only  prayer,  dear  Saviour  Lord,  preferring : 

Do  what  thou  wilt,  I  know  that 's  best  for  me  ; 
Thy  ways,  though  high  and   hidden,  are  uner- 
ring. 


08  MY  GUEST. 


Yet  I  would  meekly  pray  Thee  that  I  may 
Live  ever  at  Thy  feet ;  Thee  thus  beholding, 

Like  Martha's  lowly  sister,  day  by  day. 

I  may  by  sight  grow  like  Thee,  still  unfolding 

Some  hidden  germs  of  likeness,  which  at  last 
Shall  burst  to  full  perfection  in  the  hour 

When  the  long  years  of  seed-time  shall  be  past, 
And   Thine  own    hand    shall  cull  Thy  perfect 
flower.  L. 


i 


MY  GUEST. 

"  If  any  man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to 
him,  and  will  swp  with  him,  and  he  with  me." — Rev.  iii.  20. 

HAVE  a  wondrous  guest, 
Who  speeds  my  feet,  who  moves  my 
hands, 
Who  strengthens,  comforts,  guides,  commands, 
Whose  presence  gives  me  rest. 

He  dwells  within  my  soul ; 
He  swept  away  the  filth  and  gloom, 
He  garnished  fair  the  empty  room, 

And  now  pervades  the  whole. 

For  aye  by  day  and  night, 
He  keeps  the  portal,  suffers  naught 


MY  GUEST.  69 


Defile  the  temple  he  has  bought, 
And  filled  with  joy  and  light. 

Once  't  was  a  cavern  dim  ; 
The  home  of  evil  thoughts,  desires, 
Enkindled  by  infernal  fires, 

Without  one  thought  of  Him. 

Regenerate  by  His  grace, 
Still  't  is  a  meagre  inn  at  best, 
For  heaven's  King  to  make  His  rest, 

And  show  His  glorious  face. 

Yet  Saviour,  ne'er  depart 
From  this  poor  earthly  cottage  home, 
Until  the  Father  bid  me  come, 

Whisp'ring  within  my  heart, 

"  I  shake  these  cottage  walls  ; 
Fear  not :  at  my  command  they  bow  ; 
My  heavenly  mansions  open  now, 

As  this  poor  dwelling  falls." 

Then  my  dear  wondrous  guest 
Shall  bear  me  in  his  own  right  hand 
Unto  that  far-off  Promised  Land, 

Where  I  in  Him  shall  rest. 


HIMSELF  HAT II  DONE  IT." 


:■" 


"HIMSELF  HATH  DONE  IT." 
Isaiah  xxxviii.  15. 

TJIMSELF  hath  done  it  all !  Oh  how  those  words 
Should   hush   to    silence    every   murmuring 
thought ! 
Himself  hath  done  it !  He  who  loves  me  best ! 
He  who  my  soul  with  his  own  blood  hath  bought! 

Himself  hath  done  it — can  it,  then,  be  aught 
Than  full  of  wisdom,  full  of  tenderest  love  ? 

Not  one  unneeded  sorrow  will  He  send 

To  teach  this  wandering  heart  no  more  to  rove. 

Himself  hath  done  it — yea,  although  severe 
May  seem  the  stroke,  and  bitter  be  the  cup, 

'T  is  his  own  hand  that  holds  it,  and  I  know 
He  '11  give  me  grace  to  drink  it  meekly  up. 

Himself  hath  done  it — Oh !  no  arm  but  His 
Could  e'er  sustain,  beneath  earth's  dreary  lot. 

But  while  I  know  He's  doing  all  things  well, 
My  heart  his  loving  kindness  questions  not. 


Himself    hath    done    it — He   who   searched    me 
through 
Sees  how  I  cleave  to  earth's  ensnaring  ties, 


"HIMSELF  HATH  DONE  IT:1  f] 


And  so  He  breaks  each  reed  on  which  my  soul 
Too  much  for  peace  and  happiness  relies. 

Himself  hath  done  it — He  would  have  me  see 
What  broken  cisterns  human  friends  must  prove  ; 

That  I  may  turn  and  quench  my  burning  thirst 
At  His  own  fount  of  ever-living  love. 

Himself  hath  done  it — then  I  fain  would  say, 
"  Thy  will,  in  all  things,  evermore  be  done  ;" 

E'en  though  that  will  remove  whom  best  I  love, 
While  Jesus  lives,  I  cannot  be  alone. 

Himself  hath  done  it — precious,  precious  words  ! 

Himself,  my  Father,  Saviour,  Brother,  Friend  ! 
Whose  faithfulness  no  variation  knows, 

Who,  having  loved  me,  loves  me  to  the  end! 

And  when,  in  His  eternal  presence  blest, 
I  at  His  feet  my  crown  immortal  cast, 

I  '11  gladly  own,  with  all  his  ransomed  host, 
Himself  hath  done  it  all  from  first  to  last ! 


72  VIA    DOLOROSA. 


VIA    DOLOROSA. 


I  they  took  Jeans  and  led  him  away.     And  he,  hearing  his 

eras*,  went    forth  into  a  place  called  the  place  of  a  skull,  which  U 
called  in  the  Hebrew,Golyotha."—JoHX  xix.  16,  17. 

IVIIILE  I  pace  the  narrow  street 
Trodden  once  by  weary  feet, 
Where  Emanuel  bore  the  cross, 
Where  my  gain  became  his  loss  ; 
Teach  me,  Saviour,  there  to  be 
Truer  follower  of  Thee! 


From  these  gloomy  walls  of  stone 
Hear  I  yet  that  suffering  groan  ; 
Echoes  still  the  taunting  jeer, 
Laugh  of  scorn  to  find  Thee  here. 
Blinded  hearts  !  oh,  darkened  eyes  ! 
Could  ye  so  my  Lord  despise  ? 

Not  for  Thee  that  cross  was  borne, 
Not  for  sin  of  Thine  the  scorn  ; 
All  that  on  Thy  head  was  laid, 
From  the  hour  that  hate  betrayed, 
Till  they  nailed  Thee  to  the  tree, 
Thou  didst  bear  alone  for  me. 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYER.  ?3 


'T  was  for  me  that  brow  was  torn 
By  the  crtiel  crown  of  thorn  ; 
'T  was  for  me  those  nails  were  driven  ; 
'T  was  for  me  that  side  was  riven ; 
All  Thy  wounds  but  wounds  of  love, 
All,  Thy  mercy  but  to  prove. 

Who,  within  this  darkened  way, 
Would  not,  Saviour,  long  to  stay  ; 
Finding  every  heartstring  move, 
Touched  by  Thine  own  hand  of  love  ; 
And  as  memory  pours  its  tide, 
Pressing  closer  to  Thy  side. 

Pacing  still  the  narrow  street, 

Trodden  once  by  weary  feet ; 

Looking  forward  to  the  crown, 

Fain  to  lay  this  burden  down  ; 

With  Thine  aid,  oh  !  may  I  be 

Truer  follower  of  Thee.  G.  Sharpe. 


i 


THE   LORD'S   PRAYER. 

"  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven"  etc. — Matt.  vi.  9-13. 

F  any  be  distressed,  and  fain  would  gather 
Some  comfort,  let  him  haste  unto 
Our  Father  ; 

7 


74  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


For  we  of  hope  and  help  are  quite  bereaven 
Except  Thou  succour  us 

Who  art  in  heaven  ! 

Thou  showest  mercy,  therefore  for  the  same 
We  praise  Thee  !  singing, 

Hallowed  be  Thy  name  ! 
Of  all  our  miseries  cast  up  the  sum  ; 
Show  us  Thy  joys,  and  let 

Thy  kingdom  come  ! 

We  mortal  are,  and  alter  from  our  birth  ; 

Thy  will  be  done  on  earth. 
Thou  mad'st  the  earth,  as  well  as  planets  seven, 
Thy  name  be  blessed  here 

As  't  is  in  heaven  ! 

Nothing  we  have  to  use  or  debts  to  pay, 
Except  thou  give  it  us. 

Give  us  this  day 
Wherewith  to  clothe  us,  wherewith  to  be  fed, 
Fo'r  without  Thee,  Ave  want 

Our  daily  bread. 

We  want — but  want  no  faults,  for  no  day  passes 
But  we  do  sin — 

Forgive  us  our  trespasses. 


THE  LORDS  PRAYER.  75 


No  man  from  sinning  ever  free  did  live. 
Forgive  us.  Lord,  our  sins  ! 
As  we  forgive. 


o 


If  we  repent  our  faults,  Thou  ne'er  disdainest  us ; 
We  pardon  them 

That  trespass  against  us  ; 
Forgive  us  that  is  past,  a  new  path  tread  us ; 
Direct  us  always  in  Thy  faith, 

And  lead  us — 

We,  Thine  own  people,  and  Thy  chosen  nation, 
Into  all  truth,  but 

Not  into  temptation. 
Thou  that  of  all  good  graces  art  the  Giver, 
Suffer  us  not  to  wander, 

But  deliver 

Us  from  the  fierce  assaults  of  world,  and  Devil, 
And  flesh,  so  shalt  thou  free  us 

From  all  evil. 
To  these  petitions  let  both  Church  and  laymen, 
With  one  consent  of  heart  and  voice,  say 

Amen ! 


BEARING    THE   CROSS. 


BEARING    THE   CROSS. 
"  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribulation." ' — Rev.  vii.  14. 

I7N0WST  thou  to  whom  the  whitest  robes  are 

given — 
Who  stand  the  nearest  to  His  throne  in  heaven  ? 
These  are  they,  from  every  land  and  nation, 
Who  entered  there  thro'  greatest  tribulation. 

Canst  thou,  then,  in  sinful,  vain  repining, 
Still  wish  thy  sun  should  be  for  ever  shining  ? 
Thy  sad  gaze  on  earthly  pleasures  fastening — 
Shrinking  before  the  Father's  loving  chastening  ? 

Seem'st  it  that  the  cross  thou  now  art  bearing 
Is  heavier  than  thou  seest  others  wearing  ? 
Where  is  the  love  that  could  for  ever  make 
Thy  cross  but  light,  when  borne  for  His  dear  sake  ? 

If  in  thy  sky  have  risen  clouds  of  sorrow, 
Tears  fall  to-day,  nor  hope  points  to  the  morrow  ; 
If  on  thy  frame  Disease  his  hand  hath  pressed, 
And  morn  brings  no  relief,  and  night  no  rest  ? 

Yet  receive  thou  all  but  as  an  earnest, 

Of  that  eternal  peace  for  which  thou  yearnest ! 


BEARING    THE   CROSS.  j>j 


The  weary,  only,  claim  the  promised  rest, 

The  Father  chasteneth  "  whom  he  loveth  best." 

No  longer  murmur  at  thine  earthly  losses, 
No  more  compare  thine  own  with  others'  crosses ; 
Let  smiles  of  joy  break  through  thy  tears  of  weep- 
ing, 
The  Father  hath  thee  in  His  gracious  keeping. 

Through  waters  of  affliction,  waves  of  sorrow, 
Where  Jesus  walks  before,  wilt  thou  not  follow  ? 
Would'st  linger  'mid  the  smooth  stones  of  the 

stream, 
Where  never  foot-print  of  thy  Lord  hath  been  ? 

Oh,  favored  one  !  thy  cross  press  closer  to  thee  ; 
With  humble   thanks,   for  that   He   thinks    thee 

worthy 
E'en  to  taste  His  cup,  and  in  His  baptism  share, 
And  for  a  little  while  His  blood-stained  cross  to 

bear  ! 

Soon  Jesus'  welcome  summons  thou  shalt  hear ; 
"  Rise,  let  us  go  hence  !"  then,  stay'd  the  falling 
tear. 


78  CHRISTIAN  ASPIRATIONS. 


Low  at  His  feet  thy  cross  thou  shalt  lay  down, 

And  from  His  hand  receive  the  eternal  crown  ! 

K. 


CHRISTIAN  ASPIRATIONS. 
"  Where  is  Abel,  thy  brother  F—QtEX.  iv.  9. 
1  TUST  I  my  brother  keep, 

And  share  his  pains  and  toil  ; 
And  weep  with  those  that  weep, 
And  smile  with  those  that  smile  ; 
And  act  to  each  a  brother's  part, 
And  feel  his  sorrows  in  my  heart  ? 

Must  I  his  burden  bear 
As  though  it  were  my  own  ; 
And  do  as  I  would  care 
Should  to  myself  be  done  ; 
And  faithful  to  his  interests  prove, 
And  as  myself  my  neighbor  love  ? 

Must  I  reprove  his  sin  ; 

Must  I  partake  his  grief; 

And  kindly  enter  in 

And  minister  relief; 
The  naked  clothe,  the  hungry  feed, 
And  love  Ilim,  not  in  word,  but  deed  ? 


THE   GOOD   SHEPHERD.  ?9 


Then  Jesus,  at  thy  feet, 

A  student  let  rae  be ; 

And  learn,  as  it  is  meet, 

My  duty,  Lord,  of  Thee ; 
For  Thou  did'st  come  on  mercy's  plan, 
And  all  thy  life,  was  Love  to  man. 

Oh  !  make  me  as  Thou  art, 

Thy  spirit  Lord  bestow ; 

The  kind  and  gentle  heart, 

That  feels  another's  woe. 
That  thus,  I  may  be  like  my  Head, 
And  in  my  Saviour's  footsteps  tread. 


WEARINESS. 

"Lord,  I  am  oppressed!  undertake  for  7ne."— Is.  xxxviii.  14. 

["  ORD !  with  a  very  tired  mind, 
-^     I  seek  Thy  face ; 
Thy  shadowing  wing  alone  can  be 

My  resting-place. 
O  let  the  everlasting  arms 
Around  me  thrown, 
My  secret  sanctuary  be 

From  ills  unknown. 


80  WFAR1XESS. 


Thou  knowest,  Lord,  the  liidden  cross 

None  else  may  sit  ; 
For  thou  appointest  every  grief 

That  chastens  me ! 
And  I  may  plead  with  Thee,  my  God, 

For  patient  strength, 
That  this  Thy  discipline  <3f  love 

Bear  fruit  at  length. 

I  need  not  fear  to  tell  Thee  all, 

My  Heavenly  Friend — 
Of  conflict,  longing,  vague  unrest, 

Thou  sett'st  the  end. 
And  Thou  wilt  lead  my  weary  feet 

From  world- worn  ways, 
Through  paths  of  everlasting  peace, 

To  calmer  days. 

Lord  !  dwell  within  my  heart,  and  fill 

Its  emptiness ; 
Set  Thou  its  hope  above  the  reach 

Of  earthliness  ; 
Baptize  its  love,  through  suffering, 

Into  Thine  own, 
And  work  in  me  a  faith  that  rests 

On  Christ  alone.  A.  S.  K. 


ZION,  FOLLOW  NOT!  81 


ZLON,   FOLLOW  NOT! 

"  Who  is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  ye  he  followers  of  that  which  if 
good."— I  Pet.  iii.  13. 

7 ION",  follow  not! 

Follow  not  the  siren  world, 
Though  in  golden  colors  flaunting, 
All  her  banners  be  unfurled. 

Heed  not  promises  or  taunting  ; 
God  shall  choose  thy  earthly  lot. 
Zion,  follow  not ! 

Zion,  hold  thou  fast ! 
Suffer  on,  and  be  thou  strong  ; 

Shrink  not  from  the  world's  low  scorning, 
Soon  thou  'It  sing  the  deathless  song. 

Hark  !  the  trumpet  of  the  morning — 
Satan  shall  be  bound  at  last. 
Zion,  hold  thou  fast ! 

Zion,  try  the  right ! 
Prove  each  spirit  by  the  Word  ; 
Follow  thou  no  mortal  leader, 
Keep  thine  eye  upon  the  Lord  ; 

Christ  thine  advocate  and  pleader, 
He  shall  bring  thee  to  the  light. 
Zion,  try  the  right ! 


S2  CHRISTIAN  PATIENCE. 


Zion,  onward  still  ! 
Forward,  upward,  in  the  race  ; 

Let  thy  light,  in  fullness  bursting, 
Shine  on  every  darkened  place  ; 

Thee,  for  living  waters  thirsting 
Purer  than  Siloam's  rill. 

Zion,  onward  still ! 

Zion,  persevere  ! 
Loyal  to  thy  King  on  high  ; 

Let  not  sloth  or  languor  find  thee. 
Up  !  redemption  draweth  nigh  ; 

Up  !  tli'  avenger  hastes  behind  thee  ; 

Forward  !  for  the  end  is  near. 

Zion,  persevere  ! 

From  the  German. 


CHRISTIAN  PATIENCE. 

11  In  your  patience  possess  ye  your  souls." — Luke  xxi.  19. 
TN  steadfast  patience,  day  by  day, 

Lord,  lead  me  on  my  destined  way  ; 
That  way  is  cold,  and  dark,  and  drear, 
Yet  be  it  so — I  know  no  fear. 

In  patience  !     Doubts  and  cares  perplex, 
,  And  daily  troubles  daily  vex  ; 


CHRISTIAN  PATIENCE.  &3 


This  heart  grows  sad  with  grief  and  fears, 
These  eyes  grow  dim  with  unshed  tears. 

To  day  the  hosts  of  sin  assail ; 
To-day  their  arms  almost  prevail ! 
Poor  heart !  resist  with  utmost  strength, 
God's  own  to-morrow  comes  at  length. 

Patience  !  the  griefs  and  toils  we  bear, 
The  wrongs  we  right,  the  foes  we  dare, 
Each  trusting  act,  each  loving  word, 
Is  known  and  noted  by  our  Lord. 

He  bids  us  wait  "  a  little  while  " — 
Not  long  or  lone  ;  his  tender  smile 
Beams  over  all  our  toilsome  way, 
And  lights  with  joy  this  drear  to-day. 

It  is  enough  !     We  wait,  O  Lord  ! 
Thy  gracious  hour,  Thy  faithful  word ; 
The  hour  that  brings  our  soul's  release, 
The  word  that  crowns  our  toils  with  peace. 


84  COMFORT  IN   THE  LORD. 


COMFORT  IN  THE  LORD. 

"As  one  wTwrn  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I  comfort  you  ;  and 
ye  shall  be  comforted  in  Jerusalem" — Isaiah  lxvi.  13. 

'*  T^E  shall  be  comforted  !"     As  when  a  sobbing 
-*■  child 

Within  its  mother's  arms,  its  griefs  confessed, 
By  her  caresses  fond  unconsciously  beguiled 

From  memories  of  pain,  soon  sinks  to  rest ! 

"  So  will  I  comfort  you."     Dear  Lord,  our  hearts 
are  sore  ! 
We  would  be  little  children  once  again, 
But  childhood   would  bring  back  the  griefs  we 
knew  of  yore, 
And  not  the  mother  who  caressed  us  then  ! 

We  need  a  stronger  love  ;  we  seek  a  deeper  rest — 
Whose  type  and  earnest  we  once  knew  in  this ; 

The  nestling  of  the  child  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
The  sweet  dreams  won  us  by  her  good-night 
kiss. 

Lord,   grant  us  restful   sleep,  untroubled,   sweet 
and  calm  ; 
Net  fitful  slumbers  in  life's  fevered  dream. 


COMFORT  IN  THE  LORD.  85 


Oh    seal  our    weary  eyelids   with   Thy  touch  of 
balm; 
Xot  to  re-ope  until  the  Great  Day's  gleam. 

And  yet  we  are  such  children — foolish,  weak,  and 
blind — 
That  while  we  pray  for  sleep,  Thy  gentle  hand 
May  change  the  calming  cup,  and,  far  more  wise 
and  kind, 
Give  needed  bitterness,  with  this  command  : 

"  Drink,  child  !   Thy  Father's  love  shall  make  the 
unsought  draught 
Sweet  to  thy  soul,  though  bitter  to  thy  lips. 
Think  how  for  thee  thy  gracious  Elder  Brother 
quaffed 
The  cup  of  anguish  'neath  my  Love's  eclipse." 

Ah,  Father  !  whatsoe'er  Thy  children  truly  need 
Thou  givest — not  whatever  we  beseech. 

Often  we  rashly  think  Thy  pity  gives  no  heed, 
When  still  Thou  holdest  what  we   asked  for 
out  of  reach. 

But  when  the  long,  hard  lesson  we  have  learned 
at  length, 
And  with  unmurmuring  meekness  we  receive 

8 


36  COMFORT  IN  THE  LORD. 


The   cup   whose   bitter   draught   gives   new   and 
mighty  strength, 
We  own  Thy  faithful  love  and  no  more  grieve, 

But  rest  in  patient  hope,  although  Thou  long  with- 
hold 
The  chalice,  death  and   life-brimmed,  chrismal 
seal 
Of  conquest,  at  whose  touch  the  gates  of  pearl 
unfold 
And  all  the  golden  city's  bliss  reveal. 

We  only  wait  as  minors,  till  the  glad  birthday 
Shall  crown  us  kings  before  our  Father's  throne  ; 

As  exile  princes  now,  although  so  far  away, 
We  look  unto  the  land  we  call  our  own. 

Yet,  comfortless  as  orphans  Thou  dost  never  make 
Thine  own.     Who  trust  in  Thee,  Thou  'It  keep 
in  peace ; 
And  when  our  night-time  comes,  Thou  'It  bid  us 
sleep  to  wake 
Where  every  sob  is  hushed  and  sorrows  cease. 

L. 


THE  FAITHFULNESS   OF  GOD.  87 


THE  FAITHFULNESS   OF   GOD. 

"  He  abideth  faithful."— '2  Tim.  ii.  13. 

WHO  so  oft  in  deep  distress 
■*-?    And  bitter  grief  must  dwell, 
Will  now  my  God  with  gladness  bless, 

And  all  His  mercies  tell  ; 
Oh  hear  me  then,  my  God  and  King ! 
While  of  Thy  holy  name  I  sing, 

Who  doest  all  things  well. 

Our  fathers  who  are  now  no  more 
Have  praised  Thee  in  their  day  ; 

They  taught  their  children  oft  of  yore 
The  wonders  of  Thy  way. 

Our  children  shall  not  rest,  and  still 

They  shall  not  all  the  measure  fill, 
Nor  all  exhaust  the  lay. 

To  Thee  how  many  thankful  songs 

Have  gone  up  ere  my  days, 
And  yet  to  me  a  part  belongs 

In  that  great  hymn  of  praise. 
I  too  must  tell  Thy  wondrous  might, 
And  praise  Thy  covenant  just  and  right, 

And  Thine  all-conquering  grace. 


88  THE  FAITHFULNESS   OF  GOD 


And  many  a  pious  heart  shall  learn 

The  songs  I  make  to  Thee, 
For  o'er  the  stars  that  yonder  burn 

Shall  rise  our  harmony  ; 
Thy  majesty,  Thy  mighty  hand, 
Shall  be  revealed  to  every  land, 

And  all  Thy  goodness  see ! 

For  who  is  gracious,  Lord,  as  Thou  ? 

Who  hath  so  much  forgiven  ? 
Who  still  to  us  would  pitying  bow 

Who  thus  with  grace  have  striven  ? 
For  lost  in  sins  the  whole  world  lies  ; 
Her  ceaseless  crimes  would  scale  the  skies, 

And  cry  aloud  to  Heaven. 

Yes,  it  must  be  a  faithful  heart 

That  thus  can  love  us  still, 
Who  oft  reject  the  better  part, 

And  thankless,  choose  the  ill ; 
But  God  can  be  naught  else  but  good, 
And  therefore  doth  J I  is  mercies  flood — 

All  things  with  blessings  fill. 

For  this,  the  works  that  Thou  hast  made, 
We  thank  Thee  and  rejoice  ; 


THE  FAITHFULNESS   of   GOD.  89 


Thy  saints  shall  bless  Thee  for  Thine  aid, 

And  make  Thy  ways  their  choice  ; 
And  tell  abroad  from  hour  to  hour 
Thy  glorious  rule,  Thy  kingdom's  power, 
With  far-resounding  voice. 

Yes,  they  shall  praise  it,  till  its  fame 
Through  all  the  world  shall  ring, 

And  all  men  learn  to  know  Thy  name, 
And  gifts  and  service  bring ; 

Eternal  is  Thy  glorious  throne, 

Thy  rule  is  like  Thyself  alone, 
O  just,  Eternal  King  ! 

And  yet  in  death,  or  pain,  or  loss, 

The  Lord  is  with  us  all ; 
Lightens  the  pressure  of  the  cross, 

Upholds  us  when  we  fall ; 
He  stems  the  swelling  tide  of  woes, 
And  when  we  sink  beneath  its  blows 

He  comes,  ere  yet  we  call. 

All  eyes  do  wait  on  Thee,  O  Lord ! 

Who  keepest  us  from  dearth, 
Who  scatterest  rich  supplies  abroad 

For  all  the  wants  of  earth  : 


90  THE  FAITHFULNESS   OF  GOD, 


Thou  openest  oft  Thy  bounteous  hand, 
And  all  in  sea  and  air  and  land 
Are  fill'd  with  food  and  mirth. 

Thy  thoughts  are  good,  and  Thou  art  kind, 

E'en  when  we  think  it  not ; 
How  many  an  anxious,  faithless  mind 

Sits  grieving  o'er  its  lot, 
And  frets  and  pines  by  day  and  night, 
As  God  had  lost  it  out  of  sight 

And  all  its  wants  forgot ! 

Ah,  no  !  God  ne'er  forgets  His  own, 

His  heart  is  far  too  true  ; 
He  ever  seeks  their  good  alone, 

His  love  is  daily  new  ; 
And  though  thou  deem  that  things  go  ill, 
Yet  He  is  just  &nd  holy  still 

In  all  things  He  can  do. 

The  Lord  is  ever  close  and  near 
To  those  who  keep  His  word ; 

Whene'er  they  cry  to  I  lim  in  fear, 
Their  prayer  is  surely  heard  ; 

He  knoweth  well  who  loves  Him  well, 

His  love  shall  yet  their  clouds  dispel, 
And  grant  the  hope  deferred. 


THE  SURE  FOUNDATION.  91 


To  those  who  love  Him  He  denies 
N"o  good  thing  that  they  seek  ; 

He  sees  their  sorrows,  counts  their  sighs 
And  hearkens  when  they  speak, 

And  surely  frees  them  from  their  woes  ; 

But  those  that  hate  Him  He  o'erthrows, 
And  makes  their  boastings  weak. 

Yet  this  is  but  a  little  part 

Of  what  I  fain  would  sing  ; 
But  daily  shall  my  voice  and  heart 

New  thanks  and  praises  bring  ; 
Oh,  help  me  !  all  that  live  and  move, 
Help  me  to  speak  His  faithful  love, 

And  praise  our  glorious  King  ! 

Paul  Gerhardt—  1606-1676. 

THE  SURE  FOUNDATION. 

"  The  foundation  of  God  standeth  sure."— 2  Tim.  ii.  19. 

rpHE  Lord's  foundation  standeth  sure, 
His  grace  unchanging  shall  endure, 

When  heaven  and  earth  are  fled ; 
The  Lord  his  chosen  ones  doth  seal, 
Until  the  day  of  Christ  reveal, 

Those  by  His  spirit  led. 


92  THE  SURE  FOUNDATION. 


E'en  in  the  seven-fold  furnace  glow, 
Of  sorest  grief  and  sternest  woe, 

They  are  not  left  alone  ; 
No  harm  they  feel,  no  fiery  flame, 
For  One  is  there  of  blessed  name- 
Christ  walketh  with  His  own  ! 

Oh,  fainting  soul !  be  not  dismayed, 
The  pierced  hand  is  on  thee  laid, 
The  Master  toucheth  thee  ; 
"  Be  strong,  beloved,  fear  thou  not, 
Stand  fast  in  thine  appointed  lot, 
And  thou  shall  victor  be  !" 

When,  in  temptations'  evil  day, 

Our  feet  are  wandering  from  the  way, 

Oh  lead  us  to  the  Rock  ! 
Speak,  Lord,  and  bid  our  hearts  be  strong ; 
Say,  when  the  hosts  of  Satan  throng, 

"  Fear  not,  my  little  flock  !" 

"  Fear  not !"  It  is  the  Shepherd's  word  ; 
His  mighty  arm  with  strength  shall  gird 

The  weakest  of  the  flock  ! 
Believer  !   rest  in  this  secure, 
The  Lord's  foundation  standeth  sure, 

Though  earth's  foundations  rock  ! 

A.  S.  K 


EVEX  IN  SARDIS.  93 


EVEN  IN  SARDIS. 


u  Thou  hast  a  few  names  even  in  Sardis,  which  have  not  defiled 
their  garment*,  and  they  shall  walk  with  me  in  white :  for  they 
are  worthy." — Rev.  iii.  4. 

TT^HITE  robes  among  earth's  filthy  rags, 
And  trustful  hearts  and  tireless  feet 
That  walk  in  heavenly  whiteness,  while 
They  yet  do  tread  Life's  dusty  street. 


Souls  climbing  still  the  thorny  path 

With  heavenward  eyes  and  faces  bright, 

Uncaring  for  the  rugged  way, 

So  they  but  keep  their  garments  white. 

White  robes  in  Sardis  !  noble  names 
Graven  on  God's  fair  roll  of  Life  ! 

Of  soldiers  steadfast  at  their  posts, 

Who  fight  unflinching  through  the  strife  ! 

Oh,  faithful  few  !  who  cling  till  Death 

To  Him  who  holds  the  palm  and  crown — 

Seeking  no  worldly  fame,  nor  w^reath  ; 
Heedless  of  earthly  smile  or  frown. 

O  Saviour  !     Thou  who  walkest  still 
Amidst  the  candlesticks  of  gold  ; 


94  EVEN  IN  SARD1S. 


Whose  own  right  hand  the  seven  stars 
Both  now  and  evermore  doth  hold — 

We  have  not  overcome  the  world  ! 

Thy  words  ring  out  'midst  cares  and  mirth, 
"  When  comes  again  the  Son  of  man 

Shall  He  find  faith  upon  the  earth  ?" 

Grant  us,  dear  Christ !   white  Sardis  hearts — 
To  cleave  to  Thee  when  all  forsake  ; 

To  love  Thee  for  Thyself,  and  all 
The  world  as  only  for  Thy  sake. 

And  facing  thus  the  deadly  foe, 

With  banner  of  Thy  cross  unfurled, 

We  may  fulfill'  Thy  last  behest, 

"  Be  in.  '  yet  not  "  be  of  the  world." 

Thus  battling  ever  in  Thy  strength 
♦  Both  foes  without  and  foes  within, 
We  may  be  conquerors  at  length 
And  many  a  trophy  for  Thee  win. 

Oh.  keep  us,  when  we  struggle  hard 
From  trusting  to  our  courage  tried  ; 

Help  us  to  make  our  only  boast 
In  our  dear  Leader  glorified  ; 


I   WILL    GIVE    THEE  REST.  95 


Teach  us  to  labor,  wrestle,  pray, 

To  walk  in  love,  in  God's  own  light ; 

Thus  living  'mong  the  Sardis  dead, 
Be  clad  each  day  in  spotless  white. 

"  Even  in  Sardis,"  walking  thus  ; 

Then  whensoe'er  Thy  summons  be, 
We  may  uplift  our  joyful  hands, 

And  go  to  walk  in  white  with  Thee  ! 


I  WILL    GIVE   THEE  REST. 

"  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  1  will 
give  you  rest." — Matt.  xi.  28. 


"A 


XD  I  will  give  you  rest !" 

The  gracious  Saviour  to  my  weary 
soul 
Doth  promise  rest — for  which  I've  sought  in  vain. 
I've  tried  the  world — its  promises  are  false  ! 
Riches  may  make  them  wings  and  flee  away  ; 
But  Thou,  my  Saviour  !  full  of  grace  and  truth, 
Almighty  and  all-merciful  to  save, 
Thy  love  alone  this  aching  void  can  fill. 


96  1    WILL    GIVE   THEE  BEST. 


"  And  I  will  give  you  rest !" 
Then,  Lord  !  Thy  promise  I  can  never  doubt ; 
For  all  Thy  words  are  sure,  and  my  tried  soul 
Will  rest  on  this  assured  hope,  and  fix 
My  trust,  my  joy,  my  confidence  in  Thee. 
For  heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away,  nor  yet 
One  jot  or  tittle  of  Thy  sovereign  will 
Shall  pass  away,  till  all  shall  he  fulfilled. 

"And  I  will  give  you  rest  !" 
Then,  Lord,  I  come  !  though  in  my  hand  I  bear 
No  price  to  buy,  no  merit  to  deserve. 
How  rich  the  gift !  unmerited  as  free, 
So  rich  that  all  the  world  does  not  contain 
Treasure  enough  to  purchase  such  a  gift ; 
So  undeserved  that  my  poor  sinful  soul 
Is  lost  in  wonder,  gratitude,  and  love. 

"  And  I  will  give  you  rest !" 
Thou  knowest,  Lord  !  how  much  that  rest  I  need; 
For  my  poor  soul  is  weary  with  the  strife 
Of  sins  within,  temptations  from  without, 
Whose  fierce  contentions  none  but  Thou  canst  quell. 
And  is  this  promise  mine,  and  can  I  hope 
That  one  so  vile  and  sinful  as  I  am 
May  claim  this  precious  promise  as  my  own  ? 


HE    WILL  LEAD   TREE   OX.  97 


"  And  I  will  give  you    rest  /" 
No  more  shall  gloomy  doubts  beset  my  mind, 
No  longer  will  I  seek  from  carnal  things 
That  peace  and  joy  the  world  can  never  give  ; 
To  Thee  alone,  my  Saviour  !  will  I  look. 
Receive  my  heart,  unworthy  though  it  be, 
This  only  sacrifice  I  dare  to  bring  ; 
Take  it,  O  Lord  !  and  seal  it  for  Thine  own. 

HE   WILL  LEAD    THEE   OX. 

''  The  Lord  shall  guide  thee  continually''' — Is.  lviii.  11. 

T  EAD  thee  !    God  is  himself  thy  Friend    and 
-^  Father ; 

He  will  not  fail. 
Darkness  and  storm  upon  thy  path  may  gather  ; 

Christ  rules  the  gale. 
And  watching  worlds  of  light,  in  choral  lay, 
Sing  the  near  dawn  of  thy  redemption  day. 

One  step  at  once,  revealed  in  His  clear  seeing  ! 

Bid  doubt  be  gone. 
It  is  enough  !  see,  mist  and  gloom  are  fleeing  ! 

On,  pilgrim,  on  ! 
His  presence,  with  thee,  sheds  its  circling  ray ; 
'Tis  Christ — His  dear  companionship  is  day. 
9 


96  BE  YE  ALSO  PATIENT. 


Yes  ;   grace  has  marked  the  plan,  marks  all  thy 


going, 


And  "  leads  thee  on," 
And  makes  thee  joyful  in  its  gradual  showing, 

Till  life  is  done  ; 
And  life's  perplexities  and  woes  and  gloom 
Retire  as  angels  triumph  round  thy  tomb. 


BE   YE  ALSO  PATIENT 

u  Be  ye  aUo  patient.''' — James  v.  8. 

T)ESIDE  the  toilsome  way, 

Lowly  and  sad,  by  fruits  and  flowers 
unblest, 
Which  my  worn  feet  tread  sadly,  day  by  day, 
Longing  in  vain  for  rest. 

An  angel  softly  walks, 
With  pale,  sweet  face,  and  eyes  cast  meekly  down  ; 
The  while  from   withered  leaves   and  flowerless 
stalks 

She  weaves  my  fitting  crown. 

A  sweet  and  patient  grace  ; 
A  look  of  firm  endurance,  true  and  tried  ; 
Of  suffering  meekly  borne,  rests  on  her  face, 

So  pure,  so  glorified. 


REJOICING  IN  THE  LORD.  99 


And  when  my  fainting  heart 
Desponds  and  murmurs  at  its  adverse  fate, 
Then  quietly  the  angel's  bright  lips  part, 

Murmuring  softly,  "  wait." 

"  Patience,"  she  sweetly  saith, 
"  The  Father's  mercies  never  come  too  late  ; 
Gird  thee  with  patient  strength  and  trusting  faith, 

And  firm  endurance. — Wait." 

Angel,  behold  !  I  wait ! 
Wearing  the  thorny  crown  through  all  life's  hours, 
Wait  till  thy  hand  shall  ope  the  eternal  gate, 

And  change  the  thorns  to  flowers. 

REJOICING  IN  THE  LORD. 

"  Yet  will  1  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  rny  salva- 
tion."— Matt.  iii.  18. 

npHOUGH  the  fig  tree  may  not  blossom, 
^  When  spring  returns  ; 

Though  the  vine  its  red  fruit  casting, 

Fill  not  our  urns  ; 
Though  the  wealth  we  've  toiled  to  gather 

Take  wings  away  ; 
And  our  dreams  of  splendor  vanish 

At  dawn  of  day  ; 


100     THE  PILGRIM  AT  HEAVEN9 8   GATE. 


Though  the  arm  of  flesh  we  've  leaned  on 

Fail  us  in  death  ; 
And  the  tender  ones  we've  cherished 

Pass  like  a  breath  ; 
Holy  Father  !  though  "  Thou  slay  us," 

Yet  will  we  trust ; 
For  we  know  Thy  ways  are  holy, 

Tender  and  just. 
As  a  loving  father  pities 
*  Each  suffering  child, 

So  hast  Thou  in  sweet  compassion 

On  us  smiled. 
What  we  know  not  now,  for  darkness, 

Thou  wilt  reveal, 
When  before  Thy  Lamb  in  glory 

Spotless  we  kneel. 


THE  PILGRIM  AT  HEAVEN'S   GATE. 

"  1  have  caused  thine  iniquity  to  pass  from  thee,  and  I  will  clothe 
thee  with  change  of  raiment." — Zech.  iii.  4. 

\\  Y  Kobe  of  Life  is  travel- worn 

And  dusty  with  the  dusty  way 
It  beareth  marks  of  many  a  storm, 
It  beareth  marks  of  many  a  fray  ; 


THE  PILGRIM  AT  HEAVEN'S   GATE.      101 


The  morning  shower,  the  clamp  night-dews, 
Have  left  their  dark  discoloring  hues. 


My  robe  of  life  is  scorched  and  burnt 
By  madly  rushing  through  the  fires, 

Where  sternest  teachings  I  have  learnt 
From  passionate  and  fell  desires  ; 

Yet  not  without  the  loss  of  chaste 

White  innocence,  no  more  replaced. 

My  robe  of  life  is  blood-besprent ; 

For  though  I  never  raised  the  knife 
To  smite  my  brother's  breast,  I  've  sent 

A  sharper  steel  through  his  soul's  life, 
And  made  his  heart  to  bleed,  by  deep 
And  angry  words  that  murdered  sleep. 

My  robe  of  life  is  tear-bedewed— 

Tears  wrung  from  mine  and  others'  eyes — 

That  I  so  oft  have  shunned  the  good, 
That  ever  round  us,  God,  sent-lies  ; 

And  tears  by  deeper  anguish  forced, 

From  consciousness  of  virtue  lost. 
9* 


102      TEE  PILGRIM  AT  HEAVEN'S  GATE. 


My  robe  of  life  is  sin-bespotted, 

And  much  bewrayed  by  anxious  care  ; 

And  here  and  there  grown  thin,  and  rotted 
Away  by  too  much  wear  and  tear, 

And  torn  by  thorny  thickets,  when 

Through  them,  I  sought  the  road  again. 

My  robe  of  life  at  first  was  fair 
And  spotless  as  the  driven  snow  ; 

'T  was  flung  around  me  gently  there 
Where  spirits  first  from  heaven  do  go  ; 

And  white  and  clean,  it  seemed  to  be 

A  type  of  God's  own  purity. 

0  angel !   at  the  heavenly  gate 
How  can  I  hope  to  enter,  when 

At  that  high  portal,  lone  and  late, 

At  closing  eve  I  come  again, 
After  my  life-day  spent  and  past, 
With  this  worn  life-robe  round  me  cast  ? 

1  hear  a  voice,  that,  soft  and  low, 
Bids  me  to  Tlim,  my  Saviour,  fly; 

And  He  will  cleanse  as  white  as  snow, 
Or  whitest  woo],  this  robe   and  I 


CHRIST \S  DEATH   OUR   LIFE.  103 


From  Him  a  wedding-robe  shall  have 
When  this  is  mouldering  in  the  grave. 

A  wedding-garment,  brighter  far 
Than  that  I  did  at  first  receive  ; 

Brighter  than  gleam  of  silvery  star, 
My  Saviour,  Christ,  to  me  will  give  ; 

And  flinging  off  life's  robe,  will  I 

Put  on  my  immortality. 


CHRIST 8  DEATH  OUR   LIFE. 

Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  f  It  is  God 
that  justifieth  •  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It  is  Christ  that 
died,  yea  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand 
of  God,  who  also  maheth  intercession  for  us." — Rom.  viii.  33,  34. 

T} ROM  whence  this  fear  and  unbelief, 
If  God,  my  Father,  put  to  grief 

His  spotless  Son  for  me  ? 
Can  He,  the  righteous  Judge  of  men, 
Condemn  me  for  that  debt  of  sin, 

Which,  Lord,  was  charged  on  Thee  ? 

Complete  atonement  Thou  hast  made, 
And  to  the  utmost  farthing  paid 
Whate'er  Thy  people  owed  ; 


104  OUR   SAVIOUR'S   LOVE. 


How.  then,  can  wrath  on  me  take  place 
If  sheltered  in  Thy  righteousness 

And  sprinkled  by  Thy  blood? 

If  Thou  hast  my  discharge  procured, 
And  freely  in  my  place  endured 

The  whole  of  wrath  divine, 
Payment,  God  will  not  twice  demand  : 
First  at  my  bleeding  Surety's  hand, 

And  then  again  at  mine  ! 

Turn,  then,  my  soul !  unto  thy  rest ; 
The  merits  of  thy  great  High  Priest 

Speak  peace  and  liberty  ; 
Trust  in  His  efficacious  blood, 
Nor  fear  thy  banishment  from  God, 

Since  Jesus  died  for  thee. 

— Dublin  Hymn  Book. 


OUR    SAVIOUR'S  LOVE. 

"  Ye  have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against  sin." 
Her.  xii.  4. 

rvEAB  Lord!  Thou  knowest  oftentimes 
I  wonder  if  so  faint  a  strife 
Be  strife  at  all.     The  inner  life 
Is  lulled  by  far-off  fairy  chimes 


OUR   SAVIOUR'S  LOVE.  105 


So  willingly.  The  rainbow  gleam 
Of  by-gone  happiness  and  tears, 
The  opening  vista  of  the  years, 

The  memory  sad,  the  happy  dream, 

Throng  the  recesses  of  my  heart. 

They  haunt  with  almost  ghostly  sway 

The  sunny  hours  of  the  day, 
And  just  at  even-tide  depart. 

And  yet,  and  yet,  Thou  still  dost  stand, 
While  one  who  bears  Thy  precious  name 
Thus  puts  Thee  to  an  open  shame, 

Piercing  the  nail-prints  in  Thy  hand. 

Ah,  patient  Lord  !  I  scarce  can  brook 
The  thought  of  my  ingratitude, 
When,  after  my  denials    rude, 

Thou  turnest  with  Thy  melting  look. 

So  full  of  untold  tenderness, 

And  yet  of  wondrous,  wondering  grief — 

As  if  it  were  beyond  belief — 
Thou  turnest,  ready  still  to  bless 

Thy  sinful,  wayward,  worthless  child. 
Thou  knowest  how  my  love  grows  cold  ! 


106  WRESTLING  JACOB. 


Clo>e  to  thy  pitying  heart,  oh  hold 
The  heart  so  oft  by  earth  beguiled  ! 

Here!  Lord,  I  pray  Thee,  enter  in 

Thy  temple  gates,  and  with  a  scourge 
Drive  out  this  earthly  traffic,  purge 

Thy  house  of  fellowship  with  sin. 

Set  Thine  own  angel  with  a  sword 

To  guard  Thy  house,  "  the  house  of  prayer," 
And  seal  each  creature  entering  there 

With  "  Holiness  unto  the  Lord  !" 


WRESTLING  JACOB. 

11  Tell  me,  I  pray  the,  thy  name.'"— Gen.  xxxii.  29. 

Z^IOME,  O  thou  traveler  unknown  ! 

Whom  still  I  hold,  but  cannot  see  ; 
My  company  before  is  gone, 

And  I  am  left  alone  with  thee  ; 
With  thee  all  night  I  mean  to  stay 
And  wrestle  till  the  break  of  day. 

I  need  not  tell  thee  who  T  am  ; 

My  misery  and  sin  declare  ; 
Thyself  hath  called  me  by  my  name, 

Look  on  thy  hands,  and  read  it  there  ; 


WRESTLING   JACOB.  1QV 


But  who,  I  ask  thee,  who  art  thou  ? 
Tell  me  thy  name,  and  tell  me  now. 

In  vain  thou  strugglest  to  get  free, 
I  never  will  unloose  my  hold. 

Art  thou  the  man  that  died  for  me, 
The  secret  of  thy  love  t'  unfold  ? 

Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 

Till  I  thy  name,  thy  nature  know. 

Wilt  thou  not  yet  to  me  reveal 
Thy  new,  unutterable  name  ? 

Tell  me,  I  still  beseech  thee,  tell ; 
To  know  it  now,  resolved  I  am ; 

Wrestling  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 

Till  I  thy  name,  thy  nature  know. 

What  tho'  my  shrinking  flesh  complain 
And  murmur  to  contend  so  long, 

I  rise  superior  to  my  pain  ; 

When  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong ; 

And  when  my  all  of  strength  shall  fail 

I  shall  with  the  God-man  prevail. 

Yield  to  me  now,  for  I  am  weak, 
But  confident  in  self-despair  ; 


108  WRESTLING  JACOB. 


Speak  to  my  heart,  in  blessings  speak ; 
Be  conquer'd  by  my  instant  prayer ; 
Speak  !  or  tlion  never  hence  shall  move  ; 
And  tell  me  if  thy  name  be  Love. 

'T  is  Love  !  't  is  Love  !  thon  died'st  for  me ! 

I  hear  thy  whisper  in  my  heart ; 
The  morning  breaks,  the  shadows  flee, 

Pure,  universal  love  thou  art ! 
To  me,  to  all,  thy  bowels  move, 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

My  prayer  hath  power  with  God ;  the  grace 

Unspeakable  I  now  receive  ; 
Through  faith  I  see  thee  face  to  face ; 

I  see  thee,  face  to  face,  and  live  ; 
In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove, 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

I  know  thee,  Saviour,  who  thou  art — 
Jesus,  the  feeble  sinners  Friend  ; 

Nor  wilt  thou  with  the  night  depart, 
But  stay  and  love  me  to  the  end; 

Thy  mercies  never  shall  remove, 

Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 


BE  PROFUXBIS.  109 


The  sun  of  righteousness  on  me 


i& 


Hath  risen,  with  healing  on  his  wings 
Withered  my  nature's  strength  ;  from  thee 

My  soul  its  life  and  succor  brings  ; 
My  help  is  all  laid  up  above — 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

Contented  now  upon  my  thigh 
I  halt  till  life's  short  journey  end  ; 

All  helplessness,  all  weakness,  I 

On  thee  alone  for  strength  depend ; 

Nor  have  I  power  from  thee  to  move — 

Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

Lame  as  I  am,  I  take  the  prey ; 

Hell,  earth,  and  sin  with  ease  o'ercome, 
I  leap  for  joy,  pursue  my  way, 

And  as  a  bounding  hart  fly  home  ; 
Through  all  eternity  to  prove 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

BE   PROFUXBIS. 

a  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  vnto  thee,  0  Lord  /" — Ps.  cxxx.  1. 
HHHE  night  is  chill,  my  hands  are  very  weary, 
Yet  through  the  darkness  to  Thy  cross  I  cling  ; 
10 


110  DE  PROFUXDIS. 


0  Thou  who  suffered  there  !  Redeemer,  Saviour  ! 
Cast  me  not  off,  a  weak  and  guilty  thing  ! 

1  see  Thy  ransomed  ones  still  upward  treading 
The   slender  bridge,  which   spans   the  gulf  we 

dread  ; 
I  see  the  golden  gates  yet  backward  swinging  ; 
The  fiery  sword  is  flashing  o'er  my  head. 

Once,  I  believed  my  garment  washed  and  whitened, 
When  first  I  knelt  before  Thy  cross  and  Thee  ; 

Now,  torn  and  soiled,  my  nakedness  revealing, 
There  is  no  semblance  left  of  purity  ! 

Heal  me  and  take  me !  Thou  hast  purchased 
dearly 

Thy  ransomed  ones  from  out  the  Tempter's  hand ; 
One  drop  of  blood  that  falls  from  off  Thy  forehead 

Shall  buy  my  freedom,  and  I  rescued  stand. 

Though  clouded  oft,  Thy  sun  shines  on  for  ever  ; 

I  know  Thy  grace  and  glory  are  divine  ; 
I  need  divinity  to  give  me  succor, 

There  is  no  arm  to  save  but  only  Thine  ! 

Bare  then  that  arm  !   O  Helper  and  Restorer  ! 
Satan  is  clutching  me  from  off  my  hold  ! 


SEEKING    GOD'S  LOVE.  m 


Snatch  me,  a  smoking  brand,  from  out  the  burning. 
Thine  be  the  glory,  as  in  days  of  old. 


SEEKING    GOBS  LOVE. 

"  Her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  forgiven  ;  for  she  loveth  much  :  out 
to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  little.yy — Luke  vii.  47. 

II ASTER,  I  come  to  Thee, 

■*■        Unworthy  though  I  am,  to  bathe  Thy  feet 

with  tears ! 
My  heart  of  sorrow  see, 
And  speak  Thy  word  of  peace  to  drive  away  my 

fears. 

Thou  knowest  all  my  heart ; 
Its  human  cravings,  which  Thy  love  has  still  de- 
nied, 

The  bitter  tears  that  start 
Sometimes  impatiently  o'er  hopes  unsatisfied. 

And  even  wrorse  than  this, 
The  dull  ingratitude  and  heartless  unbelief, 

That  even  'neath  Thy  kiss 
Of  pardoning  peace,  would  turn  and  put  Thy  sou] 
to  grief. 


112  SEEK  IX  G    GO  ITS  LOVE. 


Oh,  sin  is  very  strong  ; 

And  I  am  still  so  wavering  and  so  prone  to  sin  ! 

Lord  !  make  me  hate  the  wrong, 

And  make  it  very  bitter  by  Thy  discipline. 

» 
Though  angels  high  in  Heaven 

Should  say,  "  This  sinner  is  not  fit,  our  Lord,  to 

touch  ;" 
"  To  whom  is  much  forgiven," 
Thou  said  'st   of   Magdalen,  cc  that   sinner  loveth 

much." 

0  Lord  !  I  thank  Thy  grace 

That  made  me  not  an  angel,  but  a  struggling  saint ; 

That,  with  the  weary  race, 
Gave  also  strength  and  courage  to  the  weak  and 
faint, 

1  thank  Thee,  that  I  may 

Not  only  once,  like  her  of  old  at  Simon's  feast, 

But  every  weary  day, 
Bring  every  sorrow,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least ; 

Yet  help  me,  Lord,  to  bring 
Not  only  tears  and  kisses  to  Thy  pierced  feet ; 

But  while  I  wee])  and  sing, 
Oh  may  I  offer,  too,  the  costly  ointment  sweet. 


THERE  IS   YET  HOPE.  US 


THERE  IS    YET  HOPE. 

1 1  would  not  have  you  to  be  ignorant,  brethren,  concerning  them 
which  are  asleep." — 1  Tafess.  iv.  13. 


["  IFE'S  load  is  heavy,  and  we  bow 

Beneath  its  burden  wearily, 
But  shall  we  faint  in  weakness,  now 

That  One  is  free? 

Life's  way  is  dark,  the  clouds  of  wroe 

Vail  the  faint  star-beams  from  our  sight, 
Yet  pass  we  onward,  for  we  know 

One  is  in  light ! 

Life's  course  is  long,  our  weary  hearts 

Pant  for  the  goal,  with  toil  distressed, 
Yet  strength  the  blessed  thought  imparts, 

One  is  at  rest ! 

Life's  pains  are  sharp  ;  the  aching  head 

Seeks  a  short  hour  of  rest  in  vain  ; 
Yet  on  one  brow  repose  is  shed, 

One  has  no  pain  ! 

Life's  dreary  waste  is  wild  and  rude, 
And  shelterless  our  footsteps  roam, 
Yet  is  our  fainting  strength  renewed ; 

One  is  at  home  ! 
10* 


11-i  SQXG    OF  MERCY. 


Life's  wants  are  fierce  ;  from  burning  thirst 

\o  stream  our  spirits  may  restore; 
One  dwells  wftere  living  fountains  burst 
And  thirsts  no  more. 

Life's  conflict  thickens ;  from  the  strife. 

Wounded  and  worn,  we  seek  release  ; 
But  the  rude  warfare  still  is  rife. 

One  is  in  peace  ! 

Life's  ills  are  piercing  ;  wild  the  woe 

Fills  the  lone  heart  by  grief  oppressed ; 
Yet,  midst  our  tears,  't  is  bliss  to  know 

That  One  is  blest ! 


SONG   OF  ME  ROY. 

"  Not  by  works  of  righteousness  which  we  have  done,  hut  according 
to  his  mere?/  he  saved  us." — Titus  iii.  5. 

npiIIS  even-tide,  no  loving  deeds 

Of  mine  have  grateful  incense  sent 
To  Him,  whose  waiting  face  is  bent 
Above  His  golden  censer, 
While  He  intercedes. 

The  golden  vials  have  out-poured 

Their  precious  odors,  dear  High  Priest! 


SONG   OF  MERCY.  H5 


Of  all  the  myriad  drops,  the  least 
TTas  that  ascended  from 

My  heart,  O  patient  Lord ! 

Oh,  how  canst  Thou  accept  in  Heaven, 
Such  worthless  service,  feeble  love, 
So  slow  its  little  life  to  prove — 
Except  as  slumbering  proved 
The  sorrowful  Eleven ! 

Saviour,  I  shrink  my  prayers  to  bring ; 
My  faith  is  loth  to  grasp  Thy  word, 
And  hope  is  like  a  wounded  bird, 
That  scarcely  can  be  made 
To  try  its  broken  wing. 

"  My  child  !  I  know  it  better  far 
Than  thou  canst  tell  me  ;  I  have  seen 
Thy  long  day's  toil ;  I  know  how  keen 
The  sufferings  of  thy  life 

Of  weary  wrestling  are. 

"  Press  closer  to  my  wounded  side, 
My  child  !  Remember  that  in  me, 
All  mine  are  justified  and  free. 
Thou  mayest  make  thy  boast 
In  me,  the  Crucified ! 


116  MY  CROSS, 


"  Not  for  their  faithful,  fervent  prayers, 
Are  any  saved  !     For  love  that  burns 
Are  none  accepted.     Each  one  turns 
From  self  and  lays  his  hand 
Upon  the  Lamb  who  bears 

"  The  sins  of  failure,  as  of  guilt. 

Fear  not !     Whom  I,  the  Lord,  do  choose 

I  often  scourge  ;  but  never  lose 

One  poor,  weak,  wayward  lamb, 

For  whom  my  blood  was  spilt !" 

L. 


MY  CROSS. 

If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take 
up  his  cross  daily,  and  follow  me." — Luke  ix.  23. 

FT  is  not  Jieavy,  agonizing  woe, 

Bearing  me  down  with  hopeless,  crushing 
weight, 
No  ray  of  comfort  in  the  gathering  gloom, 
A  heart  bereaved,  a  household  desolate. 

It  is  not  sickness,  with  her  withering  hand, 
Keeping  me  low  upon  a  couch  of  pain, 

Longing  each  morning  for  the  weary  night — 
At  night,  for  weary  day  to  come  again. 


MY  CROSS.  117 


It  is  not  poverty  with  chilling  blast, 

The  sunken  eye,  the  hunger-wasted  form ; 

The  clear  ones  perishing  for  lack  of  bread, 
With  no  safe  shelter  from  the  winter's  storm. 

It  is  not  slander,  with  her  evil  tongue  ; 

'T  is  no  "  presumptuous  sin  "  against  my  God  ; 
Not  reputation  lost,  or  friends  betrayed ; 

That  such  is  not  my  lot,  I  thank  my  God. 

Mine  is  a  daily  cross,  of  petty  cares, 
Of  little  duties  pressing  on  my  heart, 

Of  little  troubles  hard  to  reconcile, 

Of  inward  struggles,  overcome  in  part. 

My  feet  are  weary  in  their  daily  rounds, 
My  heart  is  weary  of  its  daily  care, 

My  sinful  nature  often  doth  rebel — 
I  pray  for  grace  my  daily  cross  to  bear. 

It  is  not  heavy,  Lord,  yet  oft  I  pine ; 

It  is  not  heavy,  yet  't  is  everywhere  ; 
By  day  and  night  each  hour  my  cross  I  bear ; 

I  dare  not  lay  it  down — Thou  keep'st  it  there. 


1 1 8  EN  CO  URA  CEMENT. 


I  dare  not  lay  it  down.     I  only  ask 
'That,  taking  up  my  daily  cross,  I  may — 

Follow  my  Master  humbly,  step  by  step, 

Through  clouds  and  darkness  unto  perfect  day. 

— N.  Y.  Observer. 


ENCOURA  CEMENT. 
"  Discouraged  because  of  the  way." — Num.  xxi.  4. 

AH,  weary  murmuring  soul ! 
J     Longing  in  secret  for  the  Lord's  release, 
Impatient  for  thy  pilgrimage  to  cease, 
While  yet  far  from  the  goal, 

This  strengthening    word  of  cheer — 
A  sunbeam  gladdening  earth's  lone  desert-waste, 
"  He  that  believes  on  me  shall  not  make  haste — " 

Falls  on  thy  listening  ear. 

Earth's  laborers  may  repine 
When  tardy  nightfall  lengthens  out  the  day ; 
Their  weary  eyes  may  chide  the  long  delay, 

But,  oh  my  soul !  not  thine. 

They  may  despond,  but  Thou, 
The  servant,  nay  the  child  of  God,  the  heir 


ENCO  URA  GEM  EXT.  119 


Of  glory  everlasting,  should'st  thou  wear 
Such  gloom  upon  Thy  brow  ? 

Thv  wistful  glances  trace 
The  nearer  path  to  Heaven  which  some  have  trod — 
The  path  baptized  by  their  tears  and  blood, 

Who  ran  the  martyr's  race. 

And  could'st  thou  fearless  drink 
That  cup  of  mortal  agony  and  woe  ; 
'Neath  the  dread  terror  of  the  sev'ring  blow 

Would  flesh  nor  spirit  shrink  ? 

Presumptuous,  sinful  thought ! 
E'en  now  thou  faintest,  when  thine  eager  lips 
Find  sorrow  in  joy's  cup.     One  hour's  eclipse 

Of  light  to  thee  is  fraught 

With  sorrow  and  dismay  ; 
And  could'st  thou  walk  serene  through  Death's 

dark  vale, 
Would  not  thy  footsteps  falter,  spirit  fail, 

Without  one  gladdening  ray  ? 

Nay  !     Leave  to  God,  all- wise, 
The  ordering  of  thy  path.     Be  thine  alone 


120  FEARS   OVERCOME  BY   FAITH. 


The  earnest  care  to  walk  as  He  hath  shown, 

With  heaven-directed  eyes ! 

Firm  to  the  end,  endure  ! 

Seest  not  the  glorious  crown  hung  at  the  goal  ? 

Fear  not !     In  patient  strength  possess  thy  soul ; 

God's  promise  standeth  sure  ! 

L. 


FEARS    OVERCOME  BY  FAITH. 

t(Oh  that  I  had  wings  like  a  dove  !  for  then  "would  I  flee  aivay  and 
be  at  rest." — \v.  6. 

TI7HEN  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?  my  trembling  heart 
Grows  weary  with  its  burden,  sickening  still 
With  hope  deferred.     Oh  that  it  were  Thy  will 
To  loose  my  bonds,  and  take  me  where  Thou  art ! 

When  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?  my  eyes  grow  dim 
With  straining  through  the  gloom,  I  scarce  can 

see 
The  way-marks  that  my  Saviour  left  for  me  ; 

Would  it  were  morn  and  I  were  sate  with  Ilim. 

When  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?     Hand  over  hand 
I  grasp  and  climb  an  ever  steeper  hill, 
A  rougher  path.     Oh  that  it  were  Thy  will 

My  tired  feet  might  tread  the  Promised  Land! 


FEARS   OVERCOME  BY  FAITH.  121 


Oh  that  I  were  at  rest  ?  a  thousand  fears 
Come  thronging  o'er  me  lest  I  fail  at  last. 
Would  I  were  safe,  all  toil  and  danger  past, 

And  Thine  own  hand  might  wipe  away  my  tears! 

Oh  that  I  were  at  rest !  like  some  I  love, 

Whose  last  fond  looks  drew  half  my  life  away, 
Seeming  to  plead  that  either  they  might  stay 

With  me  on  earth,  or  I  with  them  above. 

But  why  these    murmurs  ?     Thou    did'st    never 
shrink 
From  any  toil  or  wreariness  for  me, 
Not  even  from  that  last  deep  agony. 

Shall  I  beneath  my  little  trials  sink  ? 

No,  Lord  !  for  when  I  am  indeed  at  rest, 
One  taste  of  that  deep  bliss  will  quite  efface 
The  sternest  memories  of  my  earthly  race, 

Save  but  to  swell  the  sense  of  being  blest. 

Then  lay  on  me  whatever  cross  I  need 

To  bring  me  there.     I  know  thou  canst  not  be 
Unkind,  unfaithful,  or  untrue  to  me  ! 
Shall  I  not  toil  for  Thee,  when  Thou  for  me  did'st 
bleed. 
11 


122  HERE  AX  J)   HEREAFTER. 


HERE  AND  HEREAFTER. 

"  They  shall  call  his  name  Emmanuel,  which,  being  interpreted,  is 

God  with  w$."— Matt.  i.  23. 
"As  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  It 

one  in  us." — John  xvii.  21. 

TTERE,  Thou  art  with  ws,  blest  Emmanuel ! 
Our  sympathizing,  ever-present  Friend. 
Both  here  and  after  here,  it  still  is  well 

With  Thy  Beloved,  e'en  tho'  heartstrings  rend. 
Yet  here  our  hearts  are  often  stricken  mute  : 

We  think,  in  our  dumb  anguish,  they  must  break. 
God  knows  the  hidden  sweetness  of  His  lute, 

Tightens  the  chords  ;  then  bids  the  music  wake. 
Ah,  there,  in  that  Hereafter  long  and  blest, 

Dwells  He  with  us  !     Nay,  more  !  we  dwell  in 
Him. 
The  shattered  tabernacle  hath  its  rest 

Beneath  the  temple's  shadowing  cherubim. 
So,  friends  who  love  me,  when  the  last  good-bye 

Dies  on  my  lips,  be  glad  for  me,  and  swell 
Sweet  holy  psalms  to  waft  my  soul  on  high 

To  rest  in  my  sweet  home,  Emmanuel ! 


THE  SHADOW  02T  THE    WAY.  123 


THE  SHADOW   ON  THE    WAY. 

The  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  in  the  way." — Num.  xxii.  22. 

T  IGHTED  by  daylight  mild  and  fair, 

I  see  my  path  a  little  way ; 
There  is  no  fairy  brightness  there, 

But  the  blue  skies  of  quiet  day — 
The  morning  light,  the  common  air, 
Are  over  it  alway. 

I  have  my  griefs,  I  have  my  fears — 

Share  of  the  storms  that  come  to  all ; 
But  the  strong  arm  of  love  upbears 

My  heart,  whate'er  befall. 
My  soul  is  prodigal  of  hope, 

My  life  doth  sit  and  watch  intent 
To  see  some  special  blessings  drop 

Whence  all  good  things  are  sent. 
Yea,  of  such  wishes,  giant-strong, 

Some  one  or  two  lay  hands  on  me  ; 
Hard  would  the  combat  be,  and  long, 

My  heart  from  their  close  grasp  to  free, 
Even  though  God's  voice  the  strife  among, 
Sent  its  last  call  to  me. 


J  24  THE  SHADOW   ON    THE    WAY. 


O  quiet  days  !    O  gentle  life  ! 

O  love,  most  dear  and  kind  of  all ! 
Mercy  and  hope,  and  blessings  rife, 

Make  shadows  slow  to  fall. 
Yet  sometimes  clouds,  a  frowning  line, 

Will  steal  across  those  kindly  skies  ; 
And  now  and  then  some  tears  of  mine, 

Under  this  fair  and  soft  sunshine, 
Make  rainbows  to  mine  eyes. 

I  see  my  path  a  little  way, 

Unburdened  upon  any  hand  ; 
And  smiles  of  April's  coming  day 

Steal,  gleaming,  o'er  the  land. 
What  is  it,  then,  amid  this  light, 

That  stands  upon  the  road  afar, 
Both  in  the  day  and  through  the  night, 

Outwatching  every  star  ? 
A  thing  of  dimness  and  of  shade, 

The  hidden  face  I  cannot  see  ; 
But  only  feel  my  steps  waylaid, 

And  know  he  waits  for  me. 

No  voice,  nor  speech,  nor  any  sound, 

Comes  through  the  softening  air  of  spring, 


THE  SHADOW  ON   THE    WAY.  125 


No  forward  footsteps  o'er  the  ground 

On  the  still  echoes  ring. 
No  haste  ! — O  heaven  !  faint  grows  my  heart 

To  see  the  calm  of  this  sure  fate  ; 
We  haste  on  our  uncertain  part, 

But  God's  fixed  will  can  wait ! 
Morning  and  night,  and  joyous  noon, 

Unchanging  here  his  place  he  holds, 
Hiding  his  form  from  sun  and  moon 

In  these  great  mantle  folds. 
My  thoughts  have  failed  in  every  will ; 

No  choice  is  mine  ;  faint  as  I  may, 
I  cannot  'scape  one  lingering  mile, 

I  must  not  'bate  one  timid  day ; 
My  path  is  on,  till,  frown  or  smile, 

I  meet  him  in  the  way. 
Death  has  ne'er  crossed  our  household  gate, 

Nor  ever  once  come  near  to  me  ; 
Methinks  it  were  a  happy  fate 

To  know  him  first,  if  this  were  he. 
While  yet  no  vacant  place  is  here, 

While  yet  no  hope  is  hopeless  grown, 

Shadow,  if  this  be  thou,  appear 

In  thine  own  shape — I  will  not  fear 

To  go  with  thee  alone. 
II* 


120  Tlip  SUA  pO  W  ON   TilK    WAY. 

Oh  ye  who  know  his  mien  of  old, 

Who  have  looked  in,  with  'bated  breath— 

Within  his  mantle's  gloomy  fold — 
Tell  me,  if  this  be  Death  ? 

I  see  thee  in  the  evening  srlooms, 

0  shadow  of  my  onward  way  ! 
Clouding  these  quiet  household  rooms 

Through  many  an  undawued  day. 
There  is  weeping  on  some  dearest  faces, 

Some  hearts  are  sad  and  silent  grown  : 
And  out  from  these  familiar  places 

Myself  am  past  and  gone. 

Yet  are  my  thoughts  not  always  thus  ; 

1  see  thee  in  another  time, 

Thy  veiled  hands  full  of  flowers  for  us — 

Gifts  of  life's  flush  and  prime. 
Sometimes,  while  one  may  draw  a  breath, 

An  angel,  gliding  on  the  way, 
Holds  back  thy  veil,  and  lo  !  beneath 
Thou  art  not  grief,  thou  art  not  death, 

But  in  thy  mantle  gray 
Dost  only  shroud  and  hoard  awhile 

Such  gifts  of  price,  most  sweet  and  bright, 


A   DEATH  SONG.  127 


As  make  thee  fain  to  veil  with  guile, 

Through  many  a  ling'ring  day  and  night, 

The  beaming  of  the  conscious  smile 
With  which  thy  face  is  bright. 

0  shadowed  form  !     O  hidden  face  ! 

Thou  mak'st  no  haste  approaching  me ! 
But  day  by  day,  with  steady  pace, 

Nearer  I  draw  to  thee  ; 
And  whatsoe'er  thy  name  may  be, 

Withersoe'er  thy  coming  tends — 
Or  if  my  pathway  passes  thee. 

Or  at  thy  fated  station  ends — 
Thou  knowest  what  't  is  thou  bring'st  to  me, 

/  know  who  't  is  that  sends. 


A   DEATH  SONG. 

"  Darkness  was  upon,  the  face  of  the  deep  •  and  God  said  let  there 
be  light ;  and  there  was  light." — Gen.  i.  2,  3. 

O  OUL  of  mine, 

^     Mourning  in  darkness  thicker  than  the  night, 

With  clasped  hands  before  an  empty  shrine, 
Give  thanks  ;  the  heaven  hath  opened — 

There  is  light ! 


128  A    DEATH  SOXG. 


Rich  and  fair, 
Glories  of  nature  home  return  to  me  ; 

The  calm  serene  that  fills  the  violet  air, 
The  wondrous  shading  of  the  distant  sea. 

Full  and  sweet, 
On  wings  more  light  than  ever  spanned  the  air, 

That  wondrous  incense,  for  the  altar  meet, 
Descends  once  more  unto  my  poet-share. 

Bright  and  grand, 
Old  pictures  show  which  in  my  sad  despair 

I  said,  with  aching  heart  and  nerveless  hand 
God  hath  denied  to  my  beseeching  prayer. 

Soft  and  slow, 
Through  all  the  chambers  of  my  weary  soul 

I  hear  the  blessed  music  come  and  go  ; 
And  the  low  measures  thrill  me  as  they  roll. 

Soul  of  mine, 
Shine  in  the  light  that  breaks  upon  the  pure, 
Give  back  an  answering  flash  ! 

The  gem  is  thine. 
Sing,  and  thy  song  shall  reach  thee  to  endure  ! 


THE    WAY  HE  LED    US.  129 


THE    WAY  HE   LED    US. 

Thou  shalt  vememler  all  the  way  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led 
thee" — Deut.  viii.  2. 

YI7TIEX  we  reach  a  quiet  dwelling 

On  the  strong,  eternal  hills, 
And  our  praise  to  Him  is  swelling, 

Who  the  vast  creation  fills  ; 
When  the  paths  of  prayer  and  duty, 

And  affliction,  all  are  trod, 
And  we  wake  and  see  the  beauty 

Of  our  Saviour  and  our  God ; 

With  the  light  of  resurrection, 

When  our  changed  bodies  glow, 
And  we  gain  the  full  perfection 

Of  the  bliss  begun  below ; 
When  the  life  that  "  flesh  "  obscureth 

In  each  radiant  form  shall  shine, 
And  the  joy  that  aye  endureth 

Flashes  forth  in  beams  divine ; 

While  we  wave  the  palms  of  glory 
Through  the  long,  eternal  years, 

Shall  we  e'er  forget  the  story 
Of  our  mortal  griefs  and  fears  ? 


130  THE    WAY  HE  LED    US. 


Shall  we  e'er  forget  the  sadness, 
And  the  clouds  that  hung  so  dim, 

When  our  hearts  are  filled  with  gladness, 
And  our  tears  are  dried  by  II im  ? 

Shall  the  memory  be  banished 

Of  His  kindness  and  His  care, 
When  the  wants  and  woes  are  vanished 

Which  He  loved  to  soothe  and  share  ? 
All  the  way  by  which  He  led  us — 

All  the  grievings  which  He  bore, 
All  the  patient  love  He  taught  us — 

Shall  we  think  of  them  no  more  ? 

Yes,  we  surely  shall  remember 

How  He  quickened  us  from  death, 
While  He  fanned  the  dying  ember 

With  His  Spirit's  glowing  breath. 
We  shall  read  the  tender  meaning 

Of  the  sorrows  and  alarms, 
As  we  trod  the  desert,  leaning 

On  His  everlasting  arms. 

And  His  rest  will  be  the  dearer 
When  we  think  of  weary  ways. 


WANTING   IN  FAITH.  131 


And  His  light  will  seem  the  clearer 
As  we  muse  on  cloudy  days. 

Oh,  't  will  be  a  glorious  morrow 
To  a  dark  and  stormy  day  ! 

We  shall  recollect  our  sorrow 
As  the  streams  that  pass  away. 


WANTING  IN  FAITH. 

"  We  would  see  Jesus." — John  xii.  21. 

T  KNOW  not  where  those  blessed  mansions  lie 
^    That  Christ  departed  to  prepare  on  high  ; 
Nor  where  the  new  Jerusalem  doth  stand, 
The  glorious  centre  of  a  happy  land  ; 

Nor  the  full  meaning  of  that  tree  of  life, 
The  fruits  unceasing,  leaves  with  blessing  rife ; 
That  crystal  stream  of  life  is  still  to  me 
A  beautiful,  a  baffling  mystery. 

Then  those  bright  spirits,  from  the  body  free, 
How  can  they  worship  there  as  now  they  be  ? 
And  how  with  one  another  can  they  speak  ? 
The  answer  to  all  this  T  vainly  seek. 


THE   LIGHT   I 


These  tilings  I  know  not,  yet  I  rest  in  this  : 
That  Christ  is  there,  and  seeing  Him  is  bliss  ; 
For  ever,  Saviour,  let  me  look  on  Thee, 
And  life  shall  be  one  endless  ecstasy  ! 


THE  LIGHT   OF   GOD. 
"  The  glory  which  shall  he  ?,eveahd"—RoM.  viii.  ]8. 

T  SIIIXE  in  the  light  of  God, 

Tlis  image  stamps  my  brow, 
Through  the  shadows  of  death  my  feet  have  trod, 

I  reign  in  glory  now. 
No  breaking  heart  is  here, 

No  keen  and  thrilling  pain, 
No  wasted  cheek  where  the  frequent  tear 

Hath  rolled  and  left  its  stain. 

I  have  found  the  joys  of  heaven, 

I  am  one  of  the  angel  band  ; 
To  my  head  a  crown  of  gold  is  given, 

And  a  harp  is  in  my  hand. 
I  have  learnt  the  song  they  sing 

Whom  Jesus  hath  ^ot  fvve, 
And  the  glorious  walls  of  heaven  still  ring 

With  my  new-born  melody. 


THE  LIGHT   OF  GOD.  133 


No  sin,  no  sigh,  no  pain  ; 

Safe  in  my  happy  home, 
My  fears  are  dead,  my  griefs  all  slam, 

My  hour  of  triumph  come. 
Oh,  friends  of  my  mortal  years — 

The  trusted  and  the  true — 
Ye  are  walking  still  through  the  valley  of  tears, 

But  I  wait  to  welcome  you ! 

Do  I  forget  ?  ah,  no  ! 

For  memory's  golden  chain 
Shall  bind  my  heart  to  the  hearts  below, 

Till  they  meet  and  touch  again. 
Each  link  is  strong  and  bright, 

And  love's  electric  flame 

Flows  freely  down,-  like  a  river  of  light, 

To  the  world  from  which  I  came. 
i 

Do  you  mourn  when  another  star 

Shines  out  from  the  glittering  sky  ? 
Do  you  weep  when  the  raging  voice  of  war 

And  the  storm  of  conflict  die  ? 
Then  why  should  your  tears  run  down, 

And  your  heart  be  sorely  riven  ? 
For  another  gem  \s  in  the  Saviour's  crown, 

And  another  soul  in  heaven  ! 
12 


134  AT  THE   GATE. 


AT    THE   GATE. 


"  This  gate  of  the  Lord,  into  which  the  righteous  shall,  enter." 
Psalms  cxviii.  20. 

THERE'S  a  gate  at  the  close  of  the  pathway  of 

1  life 

That  leads,  it  is  said,  to  the  land  of  the  blest; 

But  the  mists  hide  the  country  beyond  from  our 

sight, 

And  over  the  portal  is  written  "  rest ;" 

And  an  angel  with  folded  wings  doth  wait 

At  the  gate,  at  the  gate. 

Those  most  beloved  we  have  seen  draw  nigh, 
Till  the  portal's  shadow  is  over  them  cast, 
And  the  angel  has  opened  the  gate  with  a  sigh, 
And  away,  like  a  beautiful  dream,  they  have  , 
passed. 
In   vain    have  we  watched    for  them,   early  and 
late, 
At  the  gate,  at  the  gate. 

We  have  stretched  out  our  hands  to  clasp  theirs 
once  again  ; 
We  have  sought  for  those  eyes  that  have  an- 
swered our  own  ; 


AT   THE   GATE.  135 


We  've  called  on  each  loved  name,  so  fondly,  and 
then 
We  have  waited  in  vain  for  a  look  or  a  tone. 
And  we've  mourned,  as  the  lost  dove  mourns  for 
its  mate, 
At  the  gate,  at  the  gate. 

And  we  know  that  we,  too,  soon  the  portal  shall 
gain, 
And  in  the  dark  shadow  shall  lingering  stand ; 
Our  eyes  gazing  back  on  life's  pleasure  and  pain, 
But  our  hands  stretching  out   to  that  radiant 
land. 
We  shall  linger,  it  matters  not  sooner  or  late, 
At  the  gate,  at  the  gate. 

And  the  angel  will  open  the  gate,  and  will  guide 
Our  worn,  wandering   feet   to   the   country  of 
peace  ; 
And  with  those  we  have  loved  we  shall  ever  abide, 
And  all  our  lone  waitings,  and  watchings,  shall 
cease 
Where  the  angel  with  folded  wing  doth  wait, 
At  the  gate,  at  the  gate. 

C.  F.  Burrows. 


136  THE  LAXJ)    OF  BEULAH. 


THE  HEAVENLY   CITY. 
4  The  city  of  my  God,  which  is  new  Jerusalem."— Rey.  iii.  12. 
npiIK  city's  shining  towers  we  may  not  see, 

With  our  dim  earthly  vision  ; 
For  Death,  the  silent  warder,  keeps  the  key 
That»opes  those  gates  Elysian. 

But  sometimes  when  adown  the  western  sky 

The  fiery  sunset  lingers, 
Its  golden  gates  swing  inward  noiselessly, 
Unlocked  by  unseen  fingers. 

And  while  they  stand  a  moment  half  ajar, 

Gleams  from  the  inner  glory 
Stream  brightly  through  the  azure  vault  afar, 

And  half  reveal  the  story. 


THE  LAND    OF  BEULAH. 

Thine  eye*  shall  see  the  King  in  his  beauty  ;  they  shall  behold  the 
land  that  is  very  far  of."— Is.  xxxiii.  17. 

ATI,  weary,  halting  pilgrim, 

Haste  to  thy  quiet  rest  ; 

The  sands  of  life  are  sinking, 

Hie  to  thy  mountain  nest ! 


THE  LAND    OF  BEULAH.  137 


See  yonder  sunset  glory, 
Telling  the  wondrous  story 
Of  ages  gray  and  hoary  ! 

Soon  shalt  thou  reach  that  country 

Where  shine  the  golden  hills  ; 
Where,  through  the  still,  green  pastures, 
Glide  softly-murmuring  rills  ; 

Yonder,  pure  airs  are  blowing ; 
Fresh,  gladsome  streams  are  flowing, 
And  radiant  sunshine  glowing. 

There  winds  the  chill,  dark  river, 

Whose  stern,  relentless  flow 
Beareth  each  soul  full  surely 
To  endless  bliss  or  woe  ; 

There  shall  be  cooled  life's  fever ; 
'Neath  Jordan's  waves  for  ever, 
From  pain  and  sin  we  sever. 

Just  on  the  further  border 

Of  Death's  swift  flowing  tide 
Riseth  the  holy  city, 

Glorious  on  every  side  ! 
12* 


138  THE  LAND    OF  BEULAH. 


Of  pearls,  and  jaspertfairest, 

And  chrysolite  the  rarest, 

The  crown  of  light  thou  wearest. 

From  yonder  crystal  portals, 

Where  gleams  eternal  light, 
The  King  sends  forth  his  angel 
To  Beulah's  sunny  height ; 

Nearer  the  river  streameth, 
Clearer  the  glory  beameth, 
Fairer  the  city  gleameth  ! 

Swiftly  the  white-robed  angel, 

With  noiseless,  winged  touch, 
Giveth  the  welcome  summons  : 
" '  The  Lord  hath  need  of  such  !' 

Hear  what  thy  King  hath  spoken  ; 
Behold  the  royal  token— 
The  golden  bowl  is  broken  !" 

The  silver  cord  is  loosened, 

Shattered  the  earthly  shrine; 
But  Beulah's  hill-tops  echo 

With  rhapsody  divine  ; 


IMMORTAL   LONGINGS.  139 


In  heaven,  no  sin  or  sighing, 
No  pain,  nor  any  dying  ; 
Angels  with  seraph's  vieing. 

See  !  where  the  glory  streameth 

Upon  the  farther  shore  ; 
Bright  shining  ones  are  hymning 
The  song  of  ages  hoar  ! 

In  Salem's  temple  dwelling, 
The  olden  story  telling, 
The  eternal  chorus  swelling. 
For  ever,  evermore ! 


A.  S.  K. 


IMMORTAL  LONGINGS. 

"  Bid  me  come  unto  Thee." — Matt.  xiv.  28. 

pHRIST,  let  me  come  to  Thee  ! 

My  heart  is  weary,  and  I  long  for  rest. 
Is  not  my  earthly  mission  well  nigh  done  ? 
I  cannot  bear  this  burden  on  my  breast — 

It  weighs  my  spirit  downward  like  a  stone. 
My  saddened  life  is  ever  veiled  in  clouds, 

And  midnight  darkness  hath  come  o'er  my  soul. 
My  once  bright  hopes  are  wrapped  away  in  shrouds, 
And  sorrow's  heavy  surges  round  me  roll. 
Sweet  Christ !  oh,  may  I  come  ? 


HO  IMMORTAL    LONGINGS. 


Christ,  let  me  come  to  Thee! 
Life  hath  a  dark  Sahara  been  to  me  ! 

The  few  bright  flowers  that  bloomed  along  my 
way 

Were  soon  transplanted— each  beloved  tree 
To  bloom  perennial  in  the  "  perfect  day." 

My  dear  loved  ones  sit  round  Thy  Golden  Throne 
And  wait— a  broken  circle— till  I  come  ; 

Let  me  not  linger  here  on  earth  alone— 

Oh,  let  me  join  them  in  their  heavenly  home ! 
Sweet  Christ  !  oh,  may  I  come  ? 

Christ,  let  me  come  to  Thee  ! 
Behind  me  roars  the  angry  ogean  tide ; 

Each  crested  wave  comes  nearer,  nearer  still ; 
The  muttering  thunders  in  the  billows  hide— 

I  shudder  at  their  hoarse,  loud  voice  so  chill ; 
I  cannot  meet  the  fierce,  wild  storm  of  Life  ! 

I  have  no  strength  to  battle  with  it  more  ! 
Too  long  I  've  wrestled  in  the  painful  strife, 

I  must  lay  down  the  burden  that  I  bore. 
Sweet  Christ !  oh,  may  I  come  ? 

Christ,  \i}\  me  come  to  Thee  ! 
In  dreams  I  hear  Thy  white-robed  angels  sing 
The  golden  glories  of  their  beauteous  land  ; 


IMMORTAL   LOXGINGS.  141 

I  hear  the  rustle  of  each  snowy  wing, 

And  feel  their  touch  upon  my  fevered  hand. 
Colder  than  ever  seems  the  earth  to  me, 

When  I  awake  and  see  them  flit  away  ; 
I  strain  my  eyes  the  last  bright  glimpse  to  see, 
And  watch  them  vanish  through  the  gates  of 
day. 
Sweet  Christ !  oh,  may  I  come  ? 

Christ,  let  me  come  to  Thee ! 
I  watch  my  toiling  breath  grow  faint  and  slow ; 

I  note  the  hectic  deepening  day  by  day, 
And  feel  my  life  is  like  a  wreath  of  snow, 

Which  one  kind  breath  of  heaven  would  melt 
away. 
A  little  longer  in  this  world  of  vice — 

The  wished-for  boundary  is  almost  passed — 
I  see  the  shining  shore  of  Paradise, 
I  know  my  pain  is  almost  o'er  at  last. 
Sweet  Christ !  oh,  let  me  come  ! 

Christ,  let  me  come  to  Thee  ! 
I've  seen  the  gates  that  guard  Thy  holy  clime, 

And  often  caught  a  gleam  within  ; 
I  know  they  '11  open  in  Thine  own  good  time, 

And  let  Thy  weary  wandering  child  come  in. 


1  12  WAIT  AND    WATCH. 


I  've  had,  all  through  this  weary  care  and  pain, 

One  blessed  hope,  that  ne'er  lias  known  despair- 
It  cheers  me  like  the  sunshine  after  rain  ! 

I  know  Thou 'It   hear   my  deep  and   heartfelt 
prayer, 
And  let  me  come  to  Thee  ! 


WAIT  AND    WATCH 

Until  tie  day  breeds,  ami  the  shadows  flee  away."— Cant.  ii.  17. 
II.  take  me  in  Thine  arms  to  rest, 
Until  the  breaking  of  the  morn  ! 
I  am  so  weary,  sad,  forlorn, 
So  faithless  at  the  best ; 


o 


So  "  troubled  about  many  things," 
I  wait  one  moment  at  thy  feet, 
But  ere  the  promised  peace  so  sweet 
Folds  its  ethereal  win^s 

Within  my  panting  heart,  I  rise 
Still  cumbered  with  my  little  cares, 
Forgetting  Him  who  ever  shares 
Our  pains  to  sympathize. 

Ah,  wearily  the  race  T  run  ! 

The  burden,  which  to  love  is  light, 


WAIT  AXD   WATCH,  143 


Becomes  too  heavy  for  my  might ; 
11  Not  to  leave  aught  undone," 

The  toiling  spirit  ceaseless  cries. 
Ah  !  Jesus  knows  "  the  flesh  is  weak  !" 
Poor  heart !  a  spirit,  loving,  meek, 
Thy  Saviour  more  doth  prize 

Than  all  this  struggling  eagerness. 
The  Shepherd  shows  both  staff  and  rod. 
"  Be  still!  and  know  that  /am  God  !" 
He  says  in  tenderness. 

"  Remember,  Isaac  struggled  not 

When  on  Moriah's  altar  bound — 

Hast  thou  such  trials  ever  found 

Appointed  in  thy  lot  ?" 

Here  to  the  altar's  horns  with  cords, 
Lord,  bind  this  lamb,  although  it  be 
A  sacrifice  unworthy  Thee, 

Yet,  scoffer,  't  is  the  Lord's  ! 

And  for  the  One  Great  Offering's  sake, 
Oh,  make  me  strong  to  bear  Thy  will ; 
Strong  now  to  suffer  and  lie  still 
Until  the  marning  break. 


144  THE  SO.XG    OF   THE  SAVED. 


No  works  can  ever  so  much  please 
Him  whom  afar  we  follow  still. 
As  child-like  yielding  to  Ili^  will, 
Through  life's  stern  agonies. 

Who  waits  with  patience  on  the  Lord, 
And  watcheth  through  the  weary  night 
Beside  his  armor,  in  che  fight 

Bears  Jesus'  shield  and  sword. 

So  now  I  lay  my  cares  to  rest 
Upon  His  heart  who  knows  them  all. 
He  will  not  let  a  sparrow  fall 

That  flutters  to  His  breast ! 


THE  SONG    OF  THE  SAVED. 

u After  this  I  beheld,  and,lo!  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man 
could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  ]>e<>plt,  and 
tongues,  stood  before  the  throne,  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed 
with  white  robe*,  and  palm*  in  their  "hands ." — Rev.  vii.  (.». 

TIE  comes,  of  all  His  saints  to  be  admired  ; 

These,  in  His  spotless  righteousness  attired, 

Down  at  Emmanuel's  feet  shall,  radiant,  cast 

Their  crowns  at  lasl  ! 

He  comes,  the  Christ  of  many  crowns  !  to  reign, 
To  judge  the  right,  to  sunder  every  chain  ; 


THE  SOXG    OF  THE  SAVED.  \\o 


The  slave  to  free,  the  sleeping  dead  to  call, 
He,  Lord  of  all ! 

Set  in  the  Saviour's  peerless  crown  of  light, 
Shines  every  ransomed  soul,  a  jewel  bright ; 
Each  gathered  to  the  everlasting  store, 
One  jewel  more. 

The  Master  could  not  spare  one  tuneful  lyre 
From  all  the  concord  of  that  heavenly  choir  ; 
For  each  conspires  the  rhythm  to  prolong 
In  sweetest  song. 

Yea !  fuller,  richer  shall  the  chorus  swell, 
For  each  weak  voice  attuned  His  love  to  tell ; 
For  every  hand  that  sweeps  the  harp  in  lays 
To  Jesus'  praise. 

Amid  the  hallelujahs  of  the  skies, 

No  song  more  welcome  to  His  ears  can  rise 

Than  ransomed  sinners',  when  the  strain  they  wake 

For  Jesus'  sake  ! 

A.  S.  K. 
13 


146  "MY  AIN  CO  UN  TREK' 


"MY  AIN  COUNTREE." 

"But  now  they  desire  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly"— 
Hebrews  xi.  16. 

[  'M  far  frae  my  hame,  an'  I  'm  weary  after- whiles, 
For    the   langed-for    hame-b  ringing    an'    my 
Father's  welcome  smiles  ; 
I  '11  ne'er  be  fu'  content,  until  mine  een  do  see 
The  shining  gates  o'  heaven  an'  my  ain  countree. 

The  earth  is  flecked  wi'  flowers,  mony-tinted,  fresh 
an'  gay, 

The  birdies  warble  blithely,  for  my  Father  made 
them  sae  ; 

But  these  sights  an'  these  soun's  will  as  naething 
be  to  me, 

When  I  hear  the  angels  singing  in  my  ain  coun- 
tree. 

I've  His  gude  word  o'  promise  that  some  gladsome 

day,  the  King 
To  His  ain  royal  palace  His  banished  hame  will 

brincr. 
Wi'  een  an'  wi'  hearts  runnin'  owre,  we  shall  see 
The  King  in  his  beauty  in  our  ain  countree. 


"MY  AIN  CO  UN  TREE."  147 


My  sins  hae  been  mony,  an'  my  sorrows  hae  been 

sair, 
But  there  they  '11  never  vex  me,  nor  be  remembered 

mair  ; 
His  bluid  has  made  me  white,  His  hand  shall  dry 

mine  e'e, 
When  He  brings  me  hame  at  last,  to  mine  ain 

countree. 

Like  a  bairn  to  its  mither,  a  wee  birdie  to  its  nest, 
I  wad   fain  be   ganging  noo,  unto  my  Saviour's 

breast ; 
For  He  gathers  in  His  bosom  witless,  worthless 

lambs  like  me, 
And  carries  them  Himsel'  to  His  ain  countree. 

He 's  faithfu'  that   hath   promised,  He  '11   surely 

come  again, 
He  '11  keep  his  tryst  wi'  me,  at  what  hour  I  dinna 

ken  ; 
But  He  bids  me  still  to  wait  an'  ready  aye  to  be, 
To  gang  at  ony  moment  to  my  ain  countree. 

So  I  'm  watching,  aye,  an'  singing  o'  my  hame  as 
I  wait 

For  the  soun'ing  o'  His  footfa'  this  side  the  shin- 
ing gate. 


148  SOXG    OF  THE  RAX  SO  3!  ED. 


God  gie  His  grace  to  ilk  ane  wha'  listens  noo  to  me, 

That  we  a'  may  gang  in  gladness  to  our  ain  coun- 

tree ! 

L. 

SONG  OF  THE  RANSOMED. 

"  And  the  ransomed,  of  the  Lord  shall  return,  and  come  to  Zion 
with  songs,  and  everlasting  joy  'upon  their  heads ;  they  shall 
obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  jlee 
away."— Isaiah  xxxv.  10. 

TJERE,  brief  is  the  sighing, 
And  brief  is  the  crying, 

For  brief  is  the  life  ! 
The  life  there  is  endless  ; 
The  joy  there  is  endless  ; 

And  ended  the  strife  ! 

What  joys  are  in  heaven  ? 
To  whom  are  they  given  ? 

Ah,  what  ?  and  to  whom  ? 
The  stars  to  the  earth-born  ; 
"  Best  robes  "  to  the  sin-worn  ; 
The  crown  for  the  doom ! 

O  country  the  fairest ! 
Our  country  the  dearest ! 

We  press  towards  Thee  ! 


SONG    OF  THE  RANSOMED.  149 


O  Zion  the  golden  ! 
Our  eyes  now  are  h olden 
Thy  light  till  we  see  ! 

Thy  crystalline  ocean 
Unvexed  by  commotion, 

Thy  fountain  of  life  ; 
Thy  deep  peace  unspoken, 
Pure,  sinless,  unbroken — 

Thy  peace  beyond  strife  ; 

Thy  meek  saints  all  glorious, 
Thy  martyrs  victorious, 

Who  suffer  no  more  ; 
Thy  halls  full  of  singing, 
Thy  hymns  ever  ringing 

Along  thy  safe  shore. 

Like  the  lily  for  whiteness, 
Like  the  jewel  for  brightness, 

Thy  vestments,  O  Bride ! 
The  Lamb  ever  with  thee, 
The  Bridegroom  is  with  thee- 

With  thee  to  abide  ! 

13* 


150  THE  SINNERS   CRY. 


We  know  not,  we  know  not, 
All  human  words  show  not, 

The  joys  we  may  reach  ; 
The  mansions  preparing, 
The  joys  for  our  sharing, 

The  welcome  for  each. 

O  Zion  the  golden ! 
My  eyes  still  are  holden 

Thy  light  till  I  see  ; 
And  deep  in  Thy  glory, 
Unveiled  then  before  me, 

My  King,  look  on  Thee  ! 

Bernard  of  GffH«.CX*-M-e 

From  Chron.  of  Schonberg-Cotta  Family^  X*{L, 


THE  SINNER'S   CRY. 

'Hear  my  cry,  0  God  !  attend  unto  my  'prayer.  From  the  end  of 
the  earth  will  I  cry  unto  Thee,  when  my  heart  is  overwhelmed  ; 
lead  me  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  I" — Ps.  xli.  1,  2. 

TESUS  !  Most  Holy  One  ! 
^      Pray  I  to  Thee  : 
These  chains  of  darkness 
Lord,  break  for  me  ! 


THE  SINNERS   CRY.  151 


Take  this  sad  heart  of  mine 

Mourning  for  sin, 
To  thy  great  Heart  of  love . 

Lord,  take  me  in  ! 

On  the  dark  mountains 
Long  have  I  strayed  ; 

Cold  winds  of  sorrow 
Round  me  have  pkyed. 

None  to  bring  comfort, 
None  have  I  found ; 

Wild  tears  of  anguish. 
Watered  the  ground. 

To  this  dear  refuge 

Now  have  I  fled  ; 
Know  I  Thy  kind  heart 

For  me  has  bled. 

Let  not  my  tired  soul 
Faint  by  the  way ; 

Strengthen  me,  Saviour, 
Strengthen,  I  pray ! 


15  J  FAR    OFF,   YET  NEAR, 


Take  now  the  wanderer 
Home  to  Thy  rest, 

Under  Thy  kind  wing, 
Sheltered  and  blest ! 


o 


FAR  OFF,   YET  NEAR. 

BLESSED  Lord! 

Once  more,  as  at  the  opening  of  the  day, 


I  read  thy  word  ; 
And  now,  in  all  I  read,  I  hear  Thee  say, 
"  To  those  who  love,  I  will  be  ever  near ; " 

And  yet,  while  this  I  hear, 
To  me,  0  Lord,  Thou  seemest  far  away! 

Thou  Sovereign  One, 
Greater  than  mightiest  kings,  can  it  be  fear 

Or  blinding  sun 
.Made  by  thy  glory,  so  if  Thou  art  here 
I  rcinuot  see  Thee;  yet  this  Word  declares 

That  who  so  loves,  and  bears 
Thy  Holy  Name,  shall  have  Thee  ever  near  ! 


FAR    OFF,    YET  NEAR.  153 


I  bear  Thy  name  : 
That  love,  dear  Lord,  have  I  not  long  confessed  ? 

Thy  love's  the  same, 
As  when,  like  John,  I  leaned  upon  Thy  breast, 
And  knew  I  loved  ;  oh,  which  of  us  has  changed  ? 

Am  I  from  Thee  estranged  ? 

0  Lord,  thou  changest  not :  I  know  the  rest ! 

My  doubting  heart 
Trembles  with  its  own  weakness,  and  afraid    , 

I  dwell  apart 
From  Thee,  on  whom  alone  my  hope  is  stayed : 

1  would,  and  yet  I  do  not  know  Thy  will 

And  perfect  love  ;  am  still 
Unmaking  that  which  Thou  for  me  hast  made.  * 

O  blessed  Lord  ! 
Far  off,  yet  near,  on  me  new  grace  bestow, 

As  on  Thy  Word 
I  go  to  meet  Thee ;  even  now,  I  knoAV 
Thou  nearer  art  than  when  my  quest  began ; 

One  cry,  and  Thy  feet  ran 
To  meet  me ;  Lord,  I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

A.  D.  F.  R. 


154  THE  THREE  ROOMS. 


o 


THE  THREE  ROOMS. 
"They  go  from strength  to  strength."— Ps.  84.  7. 

LONG  forgotten  Room  of  Charity, 
Open  thy  rusty  doors, 
And  take  me  in  to  breathe  thy  purer  air, 

To  tread  thy  hard,  bare  floors  ! 
Long  since,  with  childhood's  gift  of  simple  faith, 

I  crept  within,— -where  fells 
The  strange,  sweet  eastern  glow  so  lovingly 

Upon  thy  rough,  bleak  walls, 
Touching  their  sternness  with  its  own  soft  li 

Which  awes,  but  not  appals  ! 

I  know  that  he  who  hopes  to  dwell  within 

That  lowly  edifice, 
Must  learn  betimes  to  walk  the  rugged  floor 

Of  stern  self-sacrifice ; 
For  lo  !  The  eastward  window  looketh  forth 

Unto  the  mount  of  God, 
Where  Christ,  the  only  sacrifice  for  sin, 

The  awful  wine-press  trod  : 
Help  me  to  occupy  this  room,  for  Thee, 

My  Master  and  my  Lord  ! 

O  holy  Room  of  Hope  !  to  thy  true  joys 
Now  let  me  enter  in  ; 


THE  THREE  ROOMS.  155 


Through  long  discouragement  and  weary  strife, 

Thank  God,  the  right  must  loin  ! 
From  thy  calm  presence-chamber  let  me  bear 

Some  strength  for  coming  ill, — 
Hope,  that  shall  alway  cling  to  Truth  and  Right 

To  prove  God's  wiser  will, — 
And  from  the  depth  of  self-despair  shall  draw 

Assurance  deeper  still. 

And  when,  if  God  so  please,  His  hand  is  laid 

In  timely,  chastening  love, 
When  He  retakes  the  treasures  that  He  lent, 

To  store  them  up  above, — 
Then,  sweetest  grace  of  Patience,  stay  my  heart 

And  cheer  my  low  estate, 
That  I  may  trust  Him,  though  He  deals  the  blow 

That  lays  me  desolate ; — 
Until  the  Great  Revealer  comes  at  length, 

In  patience  would  I  wait. 

O  patient  Christ !  let  me  but  taste  the  joy 

Of  sympathy  with  Thee, 
Then  must  Thy  love  transfigure  with  its  light 

The  darkest  cross  for  me  ! 
For  in  Thy  fellowship  all  loss  is  gain, 

Though  flesh  and  heart  be  riven : 


156  EXCEPT  IT  DTE. 


The  clouded  Room  ofPaitence,  where  I  Kit 
Waiting  the  promise  given, 

If  Thou  but  tarry  with  me,  there,  my  Lord, 
Must  prove  the  gate  of  Heaven  !  A.  S.  K. 


EXCEPT  IT   DIE. 

"  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fill  info  the  ,jrou,yJ  and  die,  it  dbideth 
alone;  hut  if  it  die,  it  bHngeth  forth  much  fruit"— John  xii.  24, 

\TEAR  By,  among  the  harvest   sheaves, 

I  found  his  grave, 
And  side  by  side,  in  kindred  rest, 

Another  brave ; 
Yonder,  the  reeking  field  of  death 

Up-ploughed  by  war, 
Where  late  the  battle-scythe  hath  reaped 

One  harvest  more. 

This  quiet  resting-place  of  his 

Among  the  wheat 
Shall  typify,  by  faith,  to  me 

A  truth  most  sweet : 
For  he  low  in  the  ground  must  lie 

As  buried  grain, 
That  so,  like  "corn  of  wheat,"  he  rise 

To  live  again. 


EXCEPT  IT  DTE.  157 


Perhaps  to  our  poor  foolish  sight, 

Our  human  thought, 
The  grain  hath  seemed  too  early  reaped, 

The  life  too  short ; 
But  God,  who  measures  not  by  years, 

Hath  other  test, 
And  though  the  ©Tain  be  garnered  soon, 

His  time  is  best ! 

" Except  it  die" — through  Death  to  Life 

The  patliAvay  lies  ; 
Through  suff'ring  comes  the  richer  grace, 

The  higher  prize  ! 
O  risen  Lord  !  Thy  cross  is  ours, 

The  crucified ; 
Let  us,  in  Thy  good  time,  with  Thee 

Be  glorified ! 

Then  shall  the  buried  grain  spring  up 

In  golden  sheaf, — 
A  resurrection  meet  to  chide 

Our  unbelief; — 
Sown  in  dishonor — raised  in  might, 

And  fashioned  fair — 
A  body  gloriously  formed 

Christ's  crown  to  wear  !  A.  S.  K. 


1 5 8  FAITH  A ND  PA  TIENCE. 


FAITH  AXD   PATIENCE. 

Ye  //are  need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  hare  done  the  rcill  of 
God,  ye  might  receive  the  promise." — Heb.  x.  36. 

["  ORD,  give  to  me  that  fearless  trust 

Which  elasps  Thy  promise,  sweet  and  sure, 
And  sees  by  faith  the  germ  mature, 
Though  now  it  lieth  low  in  dust. 

Deep  down  beneath  the  lighter  soil 
We  hide  the  seed  with  many  a  prayer; 
We  know  Thy  Spirit  must  be  there, 
Or  else  in  vain  is  all  our  toil. 

And  buried  seed  and  harvest  sheaf 
Are  past  and  future  unto  me; 
But  both  are  present,  Lord,  to  Thee, — 
Lord  Jesus,  help  mine  unbelief! 

A  thousand  of  our  toilsome  years 
To  Thee  are  but  one  day  of  light ; 
And,  floating  in  Thy  Sun,  how  bright 
Our  little  mote  of  life  appears  ! 

Oh  life  so  brief,  and  yet  so  grand  ! 

So  full  of  mystery  ;    read  aright, 

So  fraught  with  meaning,  full  of  might — 

We  still  are  slow  to  understand. 


FAITH  AXD  PATIENCE.  159 


Lord  !   open  Thou  our  blinded  eyes 
To  see  the  angels  camping  round ; 
The  seed  that  burst  from  garden-ground 
Has  made  earth  more  than  Paradise. 

"The  grain  of  wheat  must  fall  and  die," 
To  bear  the  Eternal  Harvest  sheaf; 
Oh  !   vivify  our  slow  belief ; 
Thou  who  didst  three  days  buried  lie. 

Help  me  to  take  Thee  at  Thy  word ; 
Forever  true  I  know  Thou  art  : 
When  I  have  done  in  faith  my  part, 
Thine  will  not  be  too  long  deferred. 

And  yet  Thou  knowest  I  am  prone, 
Saviour,  to  doubt  if  love  of  Thine 
Would  reach  to  depths  where  love  of  mine 
Would  gladly  go,  though  all  alone. 

Oh  shameful  doubt  of  Love  most  grand, 
And  deep  and  high,  beyond  our  thought  ! 
Let  me  no  longer  count  as  naught 
The  Love  I  cannot  understand. 

Thou  knowest,  Saviour,  how  to  show 
Lost  souls  Thy  purposes  of  love  : 


100  FAITH  AXD  PATIENCE. 


Thy  ways  and  thoughts  are  far  above 
Our  puny  thoughts  that  creep  below. 

Thou  watchest,  out  of  human  sight, 
The  precious,  quickened  seed  take  root; 
We  only  see  the  springing  shoot, 
And  dream  it  sprung  up  in  a  night ! 

And  all  is  Thine  : — the  seed  we  sow, 
The  hand  that  sows  it,  and  the  faith 
That  clings  to  what  Thy  mercy  saith, 
And  trusts  where  now  it  may  not  know. 

So  here  I  cast  upon  Thy  heart 
The  souls  I  long  to  see  Thee  save  : 
Thy  mercy,  Lord,  for  them  I  crave, 
Saviour  of  sinners  while  Thou  art !  L. 


